Snowfall Poetry Novels & Stories

And that love, real love, is the choice you make every single day. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard. Forever. THE END

Not bothering about my favorite hairstyle, I gradually eyed the old page that had been sprinted with the dark ink. “As winter's breath draws near, late autumn's phase seems queer. A strange time in life's sphere. The balmy zephyrs of summer, once beloved, now stir within you a disapproval. To the depths of the mind it leads, where shadowed memories plant their seeds, of the last few months it speaks, And in the heart, a sadness leaks. Simultaneously, it ignites a longing within to behold the splendour of snowflakes descending. Learn to shroud thyself in icy veneer, leaving warmth a mere figment to revere.” How many times have I read this? About a hundred times or more. But the more I read th

Chantara blamed herself for what had happened and Tina couldn't blame her. "Tomorrow the promise of spring will blossom as flowers do, yet today the wind blows cold, the last serenade winter's song." Chantara said out loud Upon the grass there is snow, much like sprinkled sugar over cake. The frigid air has a way of keeping us in the moment, wicking away body heat faster than it is replaced. It's one of those days when normal clothes aren't enough, when they feel thinner than they are. Breaths rise in puffs, arms hug each body tightly and there is a briskness to movements that will melt with the snow. Come tomorrow faces will reflect the warmth of the sun in their smiles; today they show res

The portal shimmer vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving the snowfield silent and the wolves breathing like they had just sprinted across the entire territory. Then it started snowing. Not regular snow. Unnatural snow. The kind of snow that fell straight down without drifting, glowing faintly like moonlit embers and humming. Humming. Snow should not hum. Snow should fall quietly and behave itself. This snow had opinions. Lucian looked up at the sky and screamed. “Why is it singing?”

The ferocity of his howl instantly frightened the rogues, preventing them from approaching easily. Desperate, I struggled to reach them, but a loud bang shattered the valley's silence, followed by a deafening roar. It was as if an invisible force had galvanized the snowflakes in the sky, causing them to flutter down, forming a curtain of white snow. The rogues, now terrified, turned to look behind me. I followed their gaze and saw a colossal avalanche cascading down the distant mountainside. Initially, the snowflakes fell gently, resembling a swarm of stars in a dreamy wonderland. However, as the avalanche gained momentum, the snow transformed into a furious rush, akin to a thousand horses t

When I walk Through the ice I call it challenge Of the snow I don't sometimes Gain pace But I make my way Eventually Through every ice stone I know it hurts my limbs Every fall, I witness But then for rise one day I create my own day I know the pain Of snow I know the gain To find your way I know it hurts more But then it's legit The day is not torn The day is not torn If you catch me right In peace If you enable rest From unrest When in ease I gather speed Yes, I gather the speed I know whom to blame I know why to not Live in shame With the snow With the snow Near all my home It is panic at times When food goes stale And there is no way To walk away for more But I will live the same way In

"We hold." And above them, in the branches of the old tree, the snow fell , quiet, endless, erasing every wound but never the promise beneath.

she breathed, as if she had never seen snow before. "The flakes look like feathers. But everyone always compares them to feathers. Maybe thistledown? Or wisps of cotton? But everyone always compares snow to cotton, too. Wisps is a good word, though. 'Wisps of cotton, floating down.'" Lucy scribbled the line right on her math paper. "'Falling gently o'er the town.'" She turned to Jane. "O'er is a poetic way of saying over." Jane squirmed. "Maybe we should get on to problem four?" she asked. With all her heart, she wished that third period were o'er soon.

With her bare feet stepping on the white snow, the cold feeling from the tips of her toes spreading all over her body, Palomas Blancas raised her head to look up at the sky, but the white snowflakes blocked her view, blocking her vision, the sun belongs only to her. “Don't fall, don't fall…” She waved her hand vigorously, wanting to brush off the falling snowflakes in her sight. Unexpectedly, the heavy snow stopped falling. When the last snowflake fell at her feet, the gentle sun shone bright lights on the world, bringing her warmth that she hadn't seen in a long time, and making her think of the nostalgia she had carved into stone.

With a sigh, I place the items back in the drawer and lock it. Outside, Snowfall Valley glimmers under a blanket of soft white snow. The streets are quiet, peaceful, as the night wraps its arms around the town, and the twinkling lights on the lampposts cast a warm glow across the road. The world feels like a scene from a postcard, the snow falling in delicate, swirling patterns. I step out into the cold, feeling the sharp bite of winter air against my skin, but instead of shying away, I let it in. Let it clear my mind. It’s the kind of cold that wakes you up, sharp and fresh, stripping away the heaviness that clings to your thoughts.