on facades and frostiness

I walk the trails tonight
solitarily skirting the shadows
smeared across the last desperate
remnants of winter clinging

along the edges of the woods.
The traces of trees and setting sun
carve dusky blue, cobalt grey
hollows into smooth snowbanks

crunching heartily under each step.
Every crisp footfall echoes
back a sharp reminder
of the coldness outside

and the long walk back
to the coldness within.

34 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Phillip Barker
    Mar 24, 2013 @ 02:22:37

    A sonnet! Mims! I’m… shocked!

    Lovely write!


    • Whimsy Mimsy
      Mar 24, 2013 @ 02:34:21

      Haha – well…I had to look. Not QUITE a sonnet – the line counts are right but not rhyming or meter. πŸ™‚ Wanna count it anyway?

      Thank you. πŸ™‚ from you it means a lot.


      • Phillip Barker
        Mar 24, 2013 @ 09:34:53

        rhyming’s for whimps – and metre’s just a poet’s way to pretend they’re a musician…


        • Whimsy Mimsy
          Mar 24, 2013 @ 10:49:58

          Haha. I love that. You should post it on your site.

          So then your sonnets are …..


          • Phillip Barker
            Mar 24, 2013 @ 18:37:27

            pseudo sonnets… my favourite is three haiku and a tanka… done that set a few times I think… no rhyme – no metre


            • Whimsy Mimsy
              Mar 24, 2013 @ 18:39:16

              πŸ™‚ I’ve been playing with haiku sonnets…which is exactly what you just said.

              I like the thought of pseudo sonnets. I just sound like Dr. Suess when I try to rhyme. LOL


              • Phillip Barker
                Mar 24, 2013 @ 18:45:49

                I found a chain od Seussaphonics we did one new years at Dave’s place – very funny – and great fun…

                I would not could not eat raw fish
                I would not eat it in a dish
                I would not eat it here or there
                I would not eat it anywhere
                No octopus with suction cups
                No caviar in squid roll ups
                I would not eat the guts of snails
                I would not eat the blubber whales
                I cannot stomach all this goo
                I would not could not ever chew
                The greenish ooze within the shell
                Looks like oyster snot from hell
                The stench is more than I can bear
                Please get that crap away from here
                I do not like this sushi mess
                I do not like it I confess
                No little eyes to stare at me
                Exotic creatures of the sea
                Please respect my one small wish
                I could not would not eat raw fish

                Β©2007 NavWorks Press and DE Navarro. All rights reserved.

                Fish head soup and boullibaise
                With lashings and slashings of blue mayonnaise
                Pink ginger root – horse radish boots
                wasabe paste is somewhat moot
                Aardvark, antelope and aubergine
                But for breakfast we’ll eat nothing green

                (On the perils of thinking in “Seuss”)

                Officer I did not SPEED!
                Even though I had the need
                The light was not red –
                T’was surely green
                Or a secondary colour in between

                All right – get out of the car!
                Touch your nose
                You must be drunk – at least I propose
                To make you walk a long straight line
                And even passing, issue fine
                For Seuss abuse if nothing more
                A night in stir’s for you in store…

                Posted by SOMA on Friday, December 14, 2007

                continental breakfast of champions

                The pantry is full & I mean each shelf;
                CIA Factbook- this shit writes itself:

                copper fruit fish products paper & pulp
                lead zinc bananas uranium…gulp
                sunflower seeds lemons soybeans & grapes
                corn wheat tobacco & livestocked landscapes
                manganese pineapples cheap labor rice
                tin petrochemicals sugar & spice
                offshore assembly footwear & textiles
                bauxite petroleum timber for miles
                cut flowers palm oil cocoa phosphates
                electronic components client states
                lobster shrimp peanuts transport equipment
                coffee & a canal to aid shipment
                untapped potential of arable lands
                emeralds gold silver citrus che’s hands

                Posted by jim d. deuchars on Friday, December 14, 2007 at 01:49

                How many words
                would a bird brain
                If a bird brain
                could think words

                Tamara Hawkins (c)

                Posted by Sweet*T*Redefined on Friday, December 14, 2007 at 03:22

                Where’s my food? There’s my food!
                Where’s my girl friend? There’s my girlfriend!
                Is that the sun? I better crow!
                Ooo – there’s a fox! I better GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                Posted by Soma on Friday, December 14, 2007 at 08:27

                LMAO…I read this twice and got a very funny play in words here. Rooster…man…what is the difference? LOL

                Posted by Joan on Friday, December 14, 2007 at 15:22

                The difference is – of course and shame on you for not picking this up

                “Honey – where’s the remote – oh – there’s the remote”

                Posted by Soma on December 14, 2007 at 16:07


  2. slpmartin
    Mar 24, 2013 @ 02:24:41

    Wonderful imagery…you brought back memories of winters I have known at two levels.


  3. billgncs
    Mar 24, 2013 @ 02:33:54

    hot chocolate ?


  4. Susan L Daniels
    Mar 24, 2013 @ 02:48:15

    Oh, this is wonderful–I love the sound of the second line. So well done.


    Mar 24, 2013 @ 03:03:08

    makes me want to dance or read “The witch, the Lion and the Wardrobe.”


  6. Alice Keys
    Mar 24, 2013 @ 03:13:33

    “dusky blue, cobalt grey hollows into smooth snowbanks” I forget how blue snow shadows look, Very nice reminder.


  7. josephacarlucci
    Mar 24, 2013 @ 03:18:36

    Lovely. Beautifully crafted poem.


  8. Chas Spain
    Mar 24, 2013 @ 11:47:43

    the coldness within – sounds a lonely place to return to – I hope the solitary feeling can warm with time


    • Whimsy Mimsy
      Mar 24, 2013 @ 13:51:22

      πŸ™‚ thank you for your warm thoughts!


      • Chas Spain
        Mar 24, 2013 @ 14:06:06

        It’s my pleasure – I love your writing – it really is wonderful to see a short string of words being crafted so beautifully. Thanks for stopping by my part of the world too!


        • Whimsy Mimsy
          Mar 24, 2013 @ 15:27:05

          πŸ™‚ Thank you – and I love seeing what you capture. Its my virtual tour.

          I have other friends in Australia, but they don’t post pictures and history like you πŸ™‚


          • Chas Spain
            Mar 25, 2013 @ 05:08:28

            Thanks WM- I’ve been away from Australia for many years and I think when you come ‘home’ you see things you might once have been a little blasΓ© about as being very special and valuable – so I love retaking trips to these places and really appreciating them.


  9. Eric
    Mar 24, 2013 @ 15:36:32

    coldness without
    as cold within
    slices snow’s shout
    and mars as sin.


  10. ajaytao2010
    Mar 29, 2013 @ 05:41:34

    oh simply beautiful


  11. Trackback: Spring! – A Saturday Poetry Post | Lyrical Anarchy

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