The last of it…?

Thought we’d seen the last of it
in the sunshine yesterday
So little did we spare a thought
for more snow on the way
And yet first thing this morning
another blanket on the ground
white replacing yellow
with snowfall all around

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Like a whisper

Icing sugar on the road
a dusting overnight
the sun glow in the eastern sky
still a glorious sight

Cold there is no doubt of that
minus six and falling
but the crystal air is lovely
on this chilly winter morning

No Fishing

The seagulls were hopeful
as they flew overhead
But the fisherman’s stayed
nice and warm in his bed

And his boat remains covered
with tarpaulin and snow
His nets and his lines
packed away and in stow

Small dogs and the cold stuff

On the ground out the back
by the door in the snow
paw prints out there
with some evidence show
that although I’m uncertain
of the white stuff out there
I’ve been brave and I’ve ventured
outside for a dare

Somewhere cold

In the summer I sit here
and soak up the sun
but sitting here now
would be cold on the bum

The lavenders’ branches
whilst still with its green
are flecked now with white
from the snow that has been

The white blanket

So rare the white blanket
on this Southern shore
that part of me wishes
there was sometimes more
A very small part though
and I mean it no ill
But I couldn’t live long
with this iron chill

-07.02.18_13:18-

Peel off
Layer after layer

On built up embankments

Standing on built up embankments
for a moment or two at midday
It’s a pleasure to see the old oyster beds
and seabirds out there at play

-02.02.18_00:13-

Fat flakes
Fill the air

We dream of yellow (revisited)

4 of 6 in the Jemverse ‘Yellow’ series

In the gun-metal grey of midwinter
When cold grips vice-like
and, huddled in blankets
we stay cocooned in the warmth
of a fruitcake and hot tea afternoon
and dream of yellow

A splash of yellow (revisited)

3 of 6 in the Jemverse ‘Yellow’ series

As Sussex leans towards
the winter months to come
My garden’s seeing less and less
of bright and warming sun

And yet a splash of yellow
by the path I spied today
Reminding me of summer
in a very special way

Floral

Flowers in vases
Splashes of colour
Reminds us in winter
That sometimes it’s summer

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

The Promise II

Outside the weather
reminds me again
that winter’s still here
with the wind and the rain
It’s blowing so hard
with a howl and a moan
from the cold of the north
where it’s festered and grown

-04.01.18_17:42-

A howling heard throughout the
House

Mount Blanc

Her great mass
Tears the clouds, pierces the sky
Pulls at the high blues
Stealing it for her glaciers

Bing was not in Sussex

Bing was certainly not in Sussex
when he sang his famous song
As a white Christmas here
was so far back, so long
that I can scarce remember it
So many years ago
When we enjoyed in Sussex
a little Christmas snow

December’s Sobriety

personal photo

 

 

For every rapturous hope…

let there be thunderous skies.

Lichen Green

And along these brittle winter trails
with barren branches here
The green reminds as lichen still
retains a festive cheer

Close to bliss

The beach huts may be shuttered
and closed for wintertime
But the sunrise ‘cross the sea is
just as equally sublime
as it can be in summer months
much earlier than this
But still tinged with a wonder
which comes quite close to bliss

Clarity III

And the light this morning
emulates a clarity anew
Captured on the coast road
as I pass with clear sea view
Pastel pinks and subtle blue
Oranges and yellow
confirming absolutely that
I am a lucky fellow

My Old Book of Poetry & Prose.

Please, feel free to help an aspiring artist, writer, poet, and musician achieve his lifelong destiny for success. Thanks in advance. Kyle T. Dibert’s Book of Poetry

Poetic Junkies

Original KYLE T. DIBERT, DECEMBER 20th, 2017:

…shooting up the veins of the heart city, – a hundred miles an hour – as a a good junkie does well, and I can tell, that, despite admiration, I am fated for hell & yet oh well I don’t mind where all the ground fell while I was staring up at you through this miraculous well, and you were bankrupt before you decided to sell, and at your coffin, coughing casualties at commiserating children kissing flowers, praying by the hour, to not tower thus so high that one falls and usurps vitality, – power which dwindles stale & dwindles thus more sour; as if in high

Hibernation

Most times on these cold winter days
you’ll find me snug inside
as chilliness and cold are things
I really can’t abide

Give me a pen and paper and
some music and you’ll see
that I’m content to stay indoors
and let the winter be

Winter Days

These cold weekends of winter
keep us warm indoors most days
For it is frigid out there
devoid of warming rays
So we’d rather stay here snug and warm
with music, books and cheer
in our jumpers and our slippers
instead of winter gear

Christmas Mummer – December 18, 2017 (tanka)

eventide
waltzing through the street
winter mummers*
twirling golden fairy lights
one for every season

gsk ’17

Floating Fish – December 15, 2017 (shadorma)

Floating Fish

 

December
cold grey morning sky
first flakes fall
ice crystals
softly blur my world from sight
hills of snow – growing

Transformations – December 15, 2017 (haiku)

pale sunshine
caresses a snowflake
puddle of water

-13.12.17_23:18-

Bite of a winter wind
Soft, fine flakes
Rapidly falling,
They fill the air
With the sound of their
Shusshing passage
Down from above
A beautiful beginning
To a shitty commute.