Holiday

A Season to Remember
As the breath of winter starts to nip, And (silent stars) arise to utilize frozen night, And the world stands, in hushed reverence, waiting,
By Sazia Afreen Sumiabout a year ago in Poets
Head of the Table
The life of the house Is my father. He guards his children and his spouse And never is a bother. As he carves the turkey at the table’s head,
By Skyler Saundersabout a year ago in Poets
Broken but not Lost
Little fragments of the ornament scattered. It felt like my mind broke into pieces. This particular adornment just mattered.
By Skyler Saundersabout a year ago in Poets
What the Christmas Tree Tells
Those tinsel, and those lights do shine. The smell of evergreen invades the nose. This tree is my responsibility, all mine.
By Skyler Saundersabout a year ago in Poets
The First Frost: Happy As A Lark
Ghostly breaths linger in the morning air after each exhale While glassy stares escape the banks of watery accretions Caused by icy inhales, not yet warmed, but somehow continue to prevail
By simplicityabout a year ago in Poets
The Man in Red
Bundled-up all cozy and warm It’s snowing outside just missed the storm We headed out-doors for that holiday walk when I quickly fell not seeing that rock.
By J Babout a year ago in Poets
Family Christmas
Pumpkins on the porch soon turn into mush We procrastinated on Christmas shopping so there was always a last minute rush.
By ᔕᗩᗰ ᕼᗩᖇTYabout a year ago in Poets
Winter Joys in the Heart of Punjab
In Punjab, where the winter winds blow, Fields are kissed by a soft frost’s glow. Golden sun peeks through foggy skies, As kites dance high, where the sparrow flies.
By Shifali Thakurabout a year ago in Poets
the beauty of the holidays. Runner-Up in Holiday Reflections in Verse Challenge. Top Story - November 2024.
the beauty of the holidays is growing up to realize the magic i felt as a child was created by the adults in my life it was my parents bundling us in the car,
By Portgas D. Sara (they/them)about a year ago in Poets
Baby Moon
Baby brow furrows and eyebrows rise. A pinhole of moonlight skims through winter window pane, kissing baby cheek discreetly. Tiny freckle on baby’s face appears to fall like snow, with silky baby grins. Blanket of snow rests outside. Mother’s finger traces the delicate ear of baby. Father hums a low tune, to sooth and praise the night. He rests his rough hand on his wife’s shoulder. Smell of hot chocolate beckons from a small white table. Baby’s room is colorful with kites and singing rainbows. This particular baby doesn’t seem to be as sleepy as her parents. The husband whispers to his family, “Merry Christmas Eve!”
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Before The Thaw
it stirred like something in a dream as the wind began to blow the windows hazy, marked with steam as the sky began to snow
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
Her Spot at the Table
This is the first time at the table for a spot. She had succumbed to the illness As the food that once was hot, There was no time for any shrillness.
By Skyler Saundersabout a year ago in Poets