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Christmas Holiday

snowflakes thomas
Snowflakes patterned
Like Nottingham Lace
Children skating
Creating faces
Of joy
Church bells ringing
People singing
A Christmas song
Everyone scurries
All of a flurry
To and fro
They have to go
And shop
Trudging through
The deep deep snow
Christmas is here
Everyone knows
In the ice cold snow

Thomas Sims

Twenty first century Santa

A spirit of Christmas


buffalo spirits 


The snow lay upon the ground

The spirit of a old native Indian rode into town,

He told stories of hunting buffalo

And how his tribe lived off the land,

But would anybody give

This old Indian a helping hand,

There was no food to be found

Just deep snow on the ground,

The Indian looked old and pale

His cloths were ragged and torn,

The Indian asked food and a drink

And a bed to rest his head,

He would not ask for any more,

So spare a thought this Christmas

Not just for the spirit of a old Indian

But for all the homeless people

Trying to make a living off the land

This Christmas,

why don’t you give them a helping hand.

By Thomas Sims

Capture the moment – Promote Yourself


Snow on the hilltops
All night and day
There was snow
And the whiteness turned
In some places
With long steps
Tired steps
Of someone
The burden of his life

Besides warm clothing
And some worn out shoes
Socks those were fuming
For the wet sock
Why not seek love in hills
Covered with snow

Why a beloved is not born here
And why there is not
A mad man of the snows
Snow is not as cold
There is intense heat inside
And the beloveds of the snow
Let’s sing for them tonight
Let’s tell them to lit heavy fire
Let those chimneys emit smoke
Smoke the symbol of hope

And the fire burning
The smell of baking food
And the sweetness of the beloved’s
Let us invent a story of love
As the hills covered with snow
And the pine trees carrying the weight of snow
Bent down

And the distant houses
All covered with a thick white blanket
And some young girls
Making breads and hot tea for the loved ones
In the early morning
As more snow
Rains from the skies 

Sadiqullah Khan

I bet it will snow this Christmas


Nottingham Castle

I’ve had a bet

That it will be a white Christmas

The bookie just laughed

but he still took my money

I said don’t laugh

There will definitely be snow

On this Christmas day,

But he gave me odds at 5/2

The bookie thinks he’s funny

Now he has my money

And got one over on me,

But he won’t be laughing

Because the weather forecast

Does forecast snow on Christmas day,

The last time it snowed

In Nottingham was 25 years ago

On Christmas day

 Thomas Sims

The Snowman

There’s a strange man

In my garden

With top hat and tails

He is looking rather pale

He’s been standing there

For some time now

Just standing and staring

And looking all around

He very often smiles

But doesn’t often frown

The squirrels and the fox’s

All adore him

As they pass by

He lifts his hand

To wave at them

And smiles to say goodnight

Thomas and Gillian Sims


Let it snow

Let the snow dance upon my face

Let the snow lay on the ground like lace

Let it snow,

Let me feel the ice beneath my toes

Let the snow dance upon my nose

Let it snow,

Let me know

When the children can take out their sleighs

When snow drifts are here to stay

Let it snow,

Let the rain go

I want icicles to appear

I want the snow to be here

Let it snow,

I need to know

The ground is white

Glistening and bright

Let it snow,

Let the earth light up tonight

with snow so bright

Let it snow,

I want to see snowflakes

From my window

Let it snow

Gillian Sims

Snow on snow



Snow on snow
Flakes gently falling
Like leaves from a tree
Asking permission 
Before they land
On the snowflakes underneath
Each one different
Like leaves on a tree
A white carpet
Pure white till soiled
By children’s shoes
They love its touch
Ooo snowball fights
Snow doesn’t hurt
Snow is soft and forgiving
People hurt
They are selfish and cruel
So let it snow
Snow on snow on 

James Hart

Jack Frost

jack frost12121 2

The door was shut, as doors should be,
Before you went to bed last night;
Yet Jack Frost has got in, you see,
And left your window silver white.

He must have waited till you slept;
And not a single word he spoke,
But pencilled o’er the panes and crept
Away again before you woke.

And now you cannot see the hills
Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane;
But there are fairer things than these
His fingers traced on every pane.

Rocks and castles towering high;
Hills and dales, and streams and fields;
And knights in armor riding by,
With nodding plumes and shining shields.

And here are little boats, and there
Big ships with sails spread to the breeze;
And yonder, palm trees waving fair
On islands set in silver seas,

And butterflies with gauzy wings;
And herds of cows and flocks of sheep;
And fruit and flowers and all the things
You see when you are sound asleep.

For, creeping softly underneath
The door when all the lights are out,
Jack Frost takes every breath you breathe,
And knows the things you think about.

He paints them on the window-pane
In fairy lines with frozen steam;
And when you wake you see again
The lovely things you saw in dream.

Gabriel Setoun



Forecast: Winter Storm
Shovel handy, boots by door, 
Let It Snow, Snow, Snow

Snowed all day long
Winter Season has begun, 
The land is turned white

Snow came silently
Fell all day, turned Earth to a
Winter Wonderland

While waiting for Spring
Snow transformed the land to
a white fantasy

Snow came in the night
Turned the whole world white
A cold wintry site

The Blizzard Wizard
Waved His wand, crystal stardust fell
And ice fairies danced

Snow falling today
Creative juices flowing
Writer’s Block is gone 

Nancy Chambers

Rudolph the red nose reindeer




The Snow Man


One must have a mind of winter 
To regard the frost and the boughs 
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time 
To behold the junipers shagged with ice, 
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think 
Of any misery in the sound of the wind, 
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land 
Full of the same wind 
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow, 
And, nothing himself, beholds 
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.



train snow 3

train snow 2

kids snow sculture444

train snow 4

train snow 5

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Poem on Floods


Strongly built to protect it all

Against a force that beckons to call

Behind this wall, it’s easy to live

No more to get with less to give.


In one instant, the flood rages in

Attacking that wall, wearing it thin

The onslaught becomes too much to bear

Unstoppable, without warning, no time to prepare


Pain flashes through the heart and soul

Destroying what was once thought whole

Sooner or later, the walls crumble and break

Creating inside an unbearable ache.


All at once, never in small measures

Memories invade of all past treasures.

No longer mine, they belong to another

Why would I care? Why even bother?


Although the pain is less than before

I beg to be saved from bearing it more. 

I reach for the concrete and mortar of my mind.

In hopes to leave those memories behind.


Hastily rebuilding that wall of protection.

Each block in place, no room for rejection.

Built from tears and not from blood

Safe again from memories flash flood.

Water water everywhere 
there has been a flood 
heavy rainfall flooding us 
because there are monsoons

some days we get holidays 
declared by government 
some days we must go to school 
even when its muddy

we don’t get sports periods 
sometimes we miss snacks 
just because the heavy rains 
of winter, are back

people walk in knee deep water 
possibly even more 
but not all places are affected 
but some are prone for sure

watch out, stay at home 
going out your prone 
to get diseases of many types 
which are not very pleasant

water water everywhere 
there has been a flood 
heavy rainfall flooding us 
because there are monsoons


    Oh! The snow, the beautiful snow,
Filling the sky and the earth below,
Over the housetops, over the street,
Over the heads of people you meet.
Skimming along,Beautiful snow! It can do no wrong;
Flying to kiss a fair lady’s cheek,
Clinging to lips in frolicksome freak;
Beautiful snow from heaven above,
Pure as an angel, gentle as love!

Oh, the snow, the beautiful snow,
How the flakes gather and laugh as they go
Whirling about in maddening fun:
Hurrying by.

It lights on the face and it sparkles the eye;
And the dogs with a bark and a bound
Snap at the crystals as they eddy around;
The town is alive, and its heart is aglow,
To welcome the coming of beautiful snow.

How wild the crowd goes swaying along,
Hailing each other with humor and song;
How the gay sleighs like meteors flash by,
Bright for a moment, then lost to the eye:
Dashing they go,

Over the crest of the beautiful snow;
Snow so pure as it falls from the sky,
To be trampled in time by the crowd rushing by –
To be trampled and tracked by thousands of feet
Till it blends with the filth in the horrible street.

Once I was pure as the snow, but I fell,
Fell like the snow flakes from heaven to hell;
Fell to be trampled as filth in the street,
Fell to be scoffed, to be spit on and beat;
Dreading to die,

Selling my soul to whoever would buy;
Dealing in shame for a morsel of bread,
Hating the living and fearing the dead.
Merciful God!  I have fallen so low!
And yet I was once like the beautiful snow..

Once I was fair as the beautiful snow,
With an eye like a crystal, a heart like its glow;
Once I was loved for my innocent grace–
Flattered and sought for the charms of my face!

God and myself I have lost by my fall:
The veriest wretch that goes shivering by,
Will make a wide sweep lest I wander too night,
For all that is on or above me I know,
There is nothing so pure as the beautiful snow.

How strange it should be that this beautiful snow
Should fall on a sinner with nowhere to go!
How strange it should be when the night comes again
If the snow and the ice struck my desperate brain!
Dying alone,

Too wicked for prayer, too weak for a moan
To be heard in the streets of the crazy town,
Gone mad in the joy of snow coming down:
To be and to die in my terrible woe,
With a bed and a shroud of the beautiful snow.

Helpless and foul as the trampled snow,
Dying–for then,

The Crucified hung on the cursed tree!
His accents of mercy fall soft on thine ear,
“Is there mercy for me? Will He hear my weak prayer?”
O God, in the stream that for sinners did flow,

Gillian’s notes

(This is J. W. Watson’s great poem, “Beautiful Snow,” which has created something of a sensation in the literary world, and made a National reputation for the author, inasmuch as it has been copied into nearly all the leading publications and received the praise of the press generally.)

The big thaw


The days of rain it seems are here to stay
The weather more extreme almost every day
Climate change it it man made ?
Is there still time for the planet to be saved?

Opinions a plenty and theories abound
As the rain falls in torrents soaking the ground
Floods sweeping away all we hold day
No respite for the north the sky isn’t clear

Bridges swept away lives taken in a blink
Is our earth now moving nearer the brink?
Is it our fault this? or just natures way?
A changing earth? or God at play?

Manipulated data scientists making it real
Wade through the evidence but what is the deal
Who do we believe now , what can we do
Does the answer lie, with me and with you

Switch off another light, turn down the heat
Will global warming beat a retreat
Will the ice caps slow their mighty thaw
Or are we all queuing at heavens door

I must admit it does cause concern
As fossils fuels continue to burn
The oil is running out we’ll be in the dark
No flicker no flame no warmth or spark

If it continues on no humans are needed
If we ignore all the signs and warnings unheeded
A great swathe of water will swallow the earth
A new age will begin a time for rebirth

By Terrimac

Be melting snow

Totally Concsious, and apropos of nothing, you come to see me.
Is someone here? I ask.
The moon. The full moon is inside your house.
My friends and I go running out into the street.
We’re looking up at the sky.
My pet nightingale sobs like a drunk in the garden.
Ringdoves scatter with small cries, Where, Where.
It’s midnight. The whole neighborhood is up and out
in the street thinking, The cat burglar has come back.
The actual thief is there too, saying out loud,
Yes, the cat burglar is somewhere in this crowd.
No one pays attention.
God is in the look of your eyes,
or things that have happened to you
There’s no need to go outside.
Be melting snow.
Wash yourself of yourself.
A white flower grows in the quietness.
Let your tongue become that flower.

by Rumi

The burial in the snow

How well do I remember
Of a burial in the snow,
On a winter’s evening
Some fifteen years ago;
The ground was covered over
With the beautiful crystal snow,
And it glistened in the moonlight,
Like diamonds all aglow.

It was a pleasant evening,
That merry Christmas eve;
And I never can forget, how
The frost hung on the tree.
The moon was shining clearly,
And the sleigh-bells rang so sweet;
Ah, it was splendid sleighing,
The snow was two feet deep.

My grandparents were living
Some two miles then away,
My parents went to see them,
To spend the holiday.
I went with my kind parents,
For the evening was sublime,
To see dear aunts and uncles,
And have a merry time,

I saw the beaming faces
Of my grandparents dear,
As they met us on the door-step,
With welcome words of cheer.
In fancy I can see them
As in the days of yore,
When they welcome home their children
Through the old familiar door.

The banquet board that evening,
Was filled with cake and wine,
Delicious fruits and oysters
That came from foreign clime.
It was a merry party
That met once more to roam,
My grandparents were happy,
Their children were all home.

Grandpapa said, “dear children,
Lay the tea things aside,
And some of you get ready
To take a pleasant ride.
The moon is shining clearly,
The evening is sublime,
O’er the crystal snow we’ll glide,
And have a jolly time.”

Hats and cloaks were soon put on,
By those who wish to go,
They were wrapped up snug and warm,
For a sleigh ride o’er the snow.
Their hearts were light and gleeful,
They rode away with ease,
I never can forget them,
Or that merry Christmas eve.

On that beautiful evening,
They rode five miles away,
O’er hills, and dales, and frozen snow,
With prospects bright and gay.
They came to their journey’s end,
And soon were homeward bound,
A more joyous, happy band
Was nowhere to be found,

The merry sleigh bells ringing
Out on the midnight air,
And merry voices singing
All “right side up with care! “
The horses were high-spirited,
They ran away, and lo!
Broke loose from the sleigh, and left
It buried in the snow.

The people of that party
Lay scattered all around,
Some were frightened, others laughed,
To think it happened so,
That the end of their sleigh ride
Was a burial in the snow.

Yet they were gay and happy,
The bright moon o’er them shone,
And laughing o’er their sleigh ride,
They all went trudging home.
Some of those friends are dead and gone,
That met in that old home,
And never will we meet again,
Around that dear hearth stone. 

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