Bells of Winter

At midnight ring the winter bells,

and snow will soon arrive.

The winter bells grow cold

for they are dead and not alive.

They herald in the harsh north wind

that drives the icy rain.

They ring discordant harmonies

that leave the ears in pain.

We’ve no escape from winter bells

through land or on the seas.

We’ll die just when the tolling fades

because the bells too,


The North Wind’s Kiss

Ere long, the North Wind’s Kiss
too soon will come.

Her constellations gather
with joyful anticipation, for
her Kiss
brightens their stars,
and drapes them in all their
celestial finery.

The fleeing sun trips, and
drops its light.
Extinguished now, and
shows its belly
to the freezing night
that savages, with cold fangs,
its crimson carcass to
warmer climes.

She smiles, and betrays us with a kiss.
The red blush
of berries and cardinals’ feathers
the treacherous blue
of her
frosty lips.

Around her,
a cloak of virgin snow
trimmed with
crystals of ice.

In one hand,
a bough of evergreen,
the scepter
that bows not to the
bitter wind,
her chill herald.

She comes in all her
dread and fearsome
to drive us to
our hearths,
our blankets, and
our graves.

And lays
another tender, loving hand
across the seeds

© Alfred W. Smith Jr. 2015

Winter Thoughts

Yes, I wrote a lot about winter, but mostly because I hate it.

I hate wasting the sunlight, but it was so cold today that I soon found myself back inside after leaving.

I went in and out on short errands, and did try to go for a walk, but it’s just too cold, and I’m not too far from the Raritan Bay, so there’s wind off the water as well.

There are people who advocate for its beauty, and yes, it does have a beauty of its own, but there is some beauty you want to view from afar, and that’s what I feel about winter. If I NEVER see another snowflake for the remainder of my natural life, I would be okay. If I NEVER feel another icy blast, or hear the words ‘wind chill factor’ or ‘real feel temperature’ ever again, I will be fine with that.

If I never scrape the car windshield again, that would be heaven on earth.

To never crawl behind a salt truck, or get plowed in, or any of the other sundry things that winter

inflicts, I won’t miss it.

I hate it passionately, and I can’t wait until it’s over.

I hate when it gets dark at 5 pm; I immediately feel a physical drain of energy, a heightened lethargy, and while I don’t quite sink into a depressed state, I have to force myself to get up more often than not.

So I’ve reached the following conclusion: winter is for children. Let them have their snowmen, snowball fights, catching snowflakes on their tongues, and snow angels and all the rest. You can ski up in the mountains til you drop. I’ll stay in the lodge with hot chocolate and remark on your incredible skill. Better yet, send me a video, and I’ll remark on your incredible skill (whether you have it or not; just the fact that you’re willing to be out there in the snow doing that, I consider you highly motivated at any rate).

Just needed to rant a lil bit.

To quote Sarah Connor in T2 just before she wrecked the psych ward:

“I’m all better now.”

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