Within a crystal world no larger than
a trembling palm, the winter never ends.
Snow drifts in looping spirals as it can,
then settles soft on miniature trees and bends.
A paper village waits beneath the storm,
its windows lit with everlasting glow.
No wind can sting, no night can lose its form—
the frozen sky repeats its gentle snow.
A single shake awakens all the air;
a blizzard blooms, suspended in delight.
The storm is brief, but beautifully rare,
a swirling dream contained in glass and light.
And when it stills, the quiet comes anew—
a tiny world made calm because of you.
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Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: December 2nd, 2025 10:48
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: jarcher54, Doggerel Dave
Offline)
Comments3
You've created quite the snow globe yourself. Your piece is small enough to hold in your hand, sits quietly until the reader picks it up, and the more you look the more the wind blows and the more the snow shifts and amazes. You've composed a lovely short swirling dream that I plan to pick up again every so often and give it a fresh shake. Bravo Matthew.
Beautiful and most romantic as well. Nicely written
I have a snow dome (or globe) , but after your sonnet I really don't need both. Your piece doesn't need dusting. and is solidly constructed.
I'd just like to know whom is the 'you'?
I have a snow globe that was given to me by someone dear to me as a Christmas gift 15 years ago. He passed away 3 days later.
Thanks for insight. There'd be no way you would get rid of your globe, I will guess..
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