Whiteout

by AutoPilot

Published January 6, 2016

E - Everyone

In Poems 2015/16

The snow comes down so light and soft

Big fat fluffy flakes filling fridged air

Like powder sugar on a gingerbread house

It powders the world around us

Icy crystals start to join those sweet soft bits

The still air stirs as a breeze picks up

The snow is no longer coming down slowly

the clouds release their bright white loads

The wind turns into gusts 

The lovely soft flakes are no longer there

The world turns silver as the winds blow

The snow is whipped up into a torrent of icy particles

Your hand disappears before you face 

The world just goes away

So close your eyes enjoy the moment

When nothing else disturbs your peace

Slowly the world comes back into view 

The winds go home and so do you

The snow retreats to a gentle dusting

Through the window the world is quiet

All because of a beautiful whiteout

Comments & reviews · 4
User avatar
felistia
Review
felistia wrote a review Review · Jan 9, 2016

Hi AutoPilot, Felistia here with a review on your poem. :D

First off, welcome to YWS. I hope you have fun on the site.

Rhythm: The rhythm you present feels a bit start and stop, because you don't combine sentences that feel like they really need to be joined like in this example
(The snow is no longer coming down slowly

the clouds release their bright white loads)

It really feels like it should be

(The snow is no longer coming down slowly

as the clouds release their bright white loads)
but this is just my opinion. Feel free to ignore me. :D


Grammar and punctuation: As far as I can see there aren't any mistakes, but then I am not an expert at all. :D

Subject: I really like the subject you choose to use. I really like winter, the way you describe it in this poem is great and gives me a great picture in my head of what is happening. The last line sums up the entire poem really well and is a great way to end such a beautiful piece. :D

Suggestions: Okay so I have one small suggestion. There is a little bit of repetitiveness in this part.

(Like powder sugar on a gingerbread house

It powders the world around us)
I would suggest replacing the powder in the first sentence with soft.

Over all it was a great poem and I look forward to more of your work. Never stop writing and I hope you have a great day\night. :D

User avatar
Nommie Review
Nommie wrote a review Review · Jan 7, 2016

Hello! ^^

Now first off, I'm not big on poetry.
Though I do love reading any kind of literature revolved around winter or snow in general.

And I must say, I really love this poem! It gave me a gentle vision of windy snowfall.
Makes me think of last year when I stood outside to get into my car and I was suddenly blasted with white and I just remained standing there. Afterwards my face looked like I had partially transformed into a snowman. xD

Though, I'd just like to point out a couple lines that kind of irked me.

- the clouds release their bright white loads
- All because of a beautiful whiteout

The first one I mentioned seems kind of uh.. suggestive, despite not being intended.
Maybe a better word is in order? lol sorry, I also kind of chuckled at it.
Not in a bad way! I'm just a silly person.

And as for the last line, the 'whiteout' part doesn't suit it in my opinion. White outs aren't beautiful. Are they? I'm not sure, I end up thinking of that white paste I use to correct errors I made in pen on important documents! lol

But anyway! Really cute poem! Would definitely love to read more. ^^/

Thanks for the review,

if you look below you will see that I also hate the last line. I will change stuffs...

Nommie replied · Jan 7, 2016

Oh haha, I didn't even scroll that far. xD
and you're welcome!

Also, isn't it nice that with poems you don't have to spend much time changing anything? Shame I don't write them lol

User avatar
AutoPilot
Comment
AutoPilot commented Comment · Jan 6, 2016

Gahh.... I just realized that I hate the last verse...

User avatar
AutoPilot
Comment
AutoPilot commented Comment · Jan 6, 2016

Gahh.... I just realized that I hate the last verse...



Who knew paper and ink could be so vicious.
— Kathryn Stockett, The Help