Winter x December Poems

Updated: Dec 27, 2021


Art by Rewant Ahlawat

Ringing in December by Divya Raval


I see the stars twinkling above

And feel enveloped in fragrant breeze

Sensing around an aura of hope

Letting all worries momentarily freeze


Happily smiling, the moon spreads its arms

Soothing the earth with its healing light

Driving away the darkness of negativity

With its sheer presence, oh so bright!

Squeals of laughter fill the atmosphere

As the universe rejoices in glee

Creating vibes of pure bliss and love

Causing the gloom to quickly flee

That is when the birds give a chortle

And honeybees hum without fear

Colorful flowers dance with joy

Ah December, you are finally here!


Resurrection by Tiyasha Chaudhury


This constant shivering that comes

as I watch the stars;

this aliveness in air, where else could I

search?

In this December breeze,

as each cell of my body breathes

as every inch of my body spikes up

how do I not smile

knowing what great pleasure living is.


Of Seasons by Vijay MaheshDas Like the sun that warms the earth on a cold December morning. Like the rain that cools the air on a hot April afternoon. Like a dry change of clothes on a wet July evening. You’re always a welcome change in atmosphere.

December by Harshita

It is December,

and my plants are dropping their leaves, one by one.

I love December and I also despise December.

I like the word December, its spelling, and the shape of its name.


A mere thought of December brings chills

but tagging along with the chills is warmth, is a relief.

My heart during most of December days is like a cold cube of ice.

It wants to scream and break down,

the heart believes doing so would warm my cold chaotic mind,

just how the warmth of the quilt does to our freezing body at night.


December comes with the hard disk of my entire life.

It stores everything,

now and then playing reels of memories long lost,

reminding me of all the good and the bad.

Most of all it reminds me of their consequences.


It reminds me of the futility of the chase towards unimportant things,

and asks me to spread my arms,

to cherish more, love more,

to spread more warmth.


December hurts,

December puts the weight of my entire life on my throat.

Yet somehow the eyes know tearing up is what would save them,

somehow the heart knows there's warmth in melting down,

which is what it needs the most.


December never wants to seek revenge,

December doesn't ever ask me to hate.

It knows soon the year would end,

and just like the year, life too shall someday end.


December asks me to let go.

Let go of hate, fear, and insecurity,

and begin again,

Like my plants.


The Decemberer's Tale by Sharad Kohli


welcome, that night in deepest december whispered to me

a moisture-laden desert breeze was blowing outside

inside, mummy's tender embrace


every december, I would renew my tryst with life

find fresh energy, stumble upon new joys

because the year ahead for all was also the year to come for me


through thunderstorms of arabia and shropshire snowfall

through gurgaon dust, soot and particulate matter

my december moons waxed and waned, and then just glowed


still, there was epiphany under the brumal sun

every december, she warmed my heart like none other

she eased all troubles that wracked my soul


but oh, those glimpses of slate-grey welsh skies warning of snow

of wan salopian sunlight pouring her love on soft powder

made even those dark and dispiriting december days worth bearing


yet, seeking company, I fell into the arms of solitude

those long, frigid nights of december once unnerved me, but no more

for solace was mine in dulcet bossa nova and pages of aegean blue


never more sweeter did nostalgia taste than in december's umbra

remembrances frozen safe in the clasp of winter, to be thawed in spring's glory

now this decemberer must go, take his snug leave of you


to light a candle so that his darkness does not feel alone

so that december's misty breath mischief doesn't make

so that his wintry way ahead, illuminated by moments past, lights the memory match again


December, My Lover by Paroma S


December, you boisterous lover!

Showering me with gifts and feasts

Taking me out for Christmas parties and picnics

Drowning us in joyful abandon and reckless thrills.

December, you cold-hearted beast!

Stoking hatred in the hearts of the gullible and the fanatics

Sinking your teeth into our bodies, identities and rights with relish

Rejoicing at the sight of the red ink that spills my blood onto our streets.

December, my eternal muse!

Unflinching in your faith in the power of the people

Relentlessly fighting the good fight with love and justice on your mind

Lighting the lamp for humanity and rekindling my love for life.


The Last Among the Lasts by Tania Banerjee


December is airport hugs,

the smell of freshly baked cookies,

old letters from your old lovers

and Christmas cards you wrote

to your middle school best friend

which you find scattered

in the basement

while clearing the house

you grew up in,

so you read the first few lines

and let go of the rest,

something sinks a little

in the pit of your stomach

but you are in a hurry

for there are lamps and soaps

to be bought for the new house.


December is stolen kisses,

impulsively dyeing your hair blue,

lazy cuddling, silly socks

for it is the end of the year

and the world is sleeping softly,

so who will even bother?

December is closing your eyes

to recall that solo trip,

smelling the paperbacks

you have read this year,

telling your mother

that you terribly miss her.

December is a poem,

holding your hand to let you know

that it is really, really okay

if all that you have managed

to do this year

is come out of it alive.


Duality of December by Prachi Pramodh


I can go ahead and have an alliteration for each month of the year,

However so, it just fits in well with December.

Probably because of how,

the duality of antidote to pain and pain, go well solely in December.


The winter sun is well paired with the cold mornings,

This is paired with a cup of tea that fuels, and the cigarette which kills.

It’s about the beginnings and new endings in the same month.

It’s about the morning and the night.

It’s about staying and leaving.


It’s inspirational and mind-numbing.

It’s overfilling with love and crammed with loss.

It’s jumbled with the complexity of finding and solving unnerving displacement.

The winter moon is so well paired with the cold nights.

This is paired with a cup of hot chocolate that fuels and the sleeplessness that kills.


It’s about the beginnings and new endings in the same month.

It’s about the night and the morning.

It’s about leaving and staying.


I can go ahead and have an alliteration for each month of the year,

However so, it just fits in well with December.

Probably because of how,

the duality of antidote to pain and pain, go well solely in December.


So whoever you are, whoever is reading this,

I hope you find your pain, acknowledging that itself is an antidote to pain.

I told you so, the duality of December, just strangely fits in.


About the artist:

Rewant Ahlawat is an energetic combination of art-meets-life, sketching away exotic details on a canvas full of dreams. You can find his work on Instagram @getaliferewant and @rewantahlawat


About the poets:

  • Born and brought up in Mumbai, Divya Raval has spent most of her childhood reading the Famous Five, Nancy Drew Mysteries, Amar Chitra Katha and Aesop’s Fables. She loves to write poetries and short stories. Her poems have been published in multiple anthologies organized by various publishing houses across India. She also self published her first poetry book - Twenty One Anecdotes of a Twenty Something - in September 2021. Besides reading and writing, she loves to travel and dreams of settling somewhere in the mountains in the future. You can find her on Instagram @poeter_94

  • A Student of BA, English Hons., Tiyasha has surrounded herself with books. Selecting books and opening herself to World Literature, World Cinema, Rock, Jazz, Blues, Soul, and Hip-hop consciously. She is also a listed reviewer for various global publishing houses. Recently acquired books from Stanford University, University of Queensland, Cornell, Yale, Columbia, and more in exchange for her reviews. Two of her reviews have been published in Kloud 9 Magazine, both on Poetry. She has written a guest newsletter for The Alipore Post and her poem 'Silhouette' was featured on the website, newsletter, and journal of the same. A few of her favorite poets are Louise Glück, Richard Siken, Mary Oliver, Tishani Doshi, Kaveh Akbar, and more. Follow her on Instagram @tiyashareads

  • Vijay Mahesh Das is a decent writer. He almost always holds the door open, cleans his room every week and never sends unsolicited nudes.

  • Prachi Pramodh is from Chennai and currently works in Bombay. She works for graphic design and marketing for social media and has a keen interest towards photography and writing. Find her work on Behance.

  • Harshita is a daydreamer and reader and she loves poems. She writes to put down her emotions and thoughts on paper. Writing for her comes naturally, not that she considers herself as good (or bad) at it but the process of writing for her doesn't require any internal or external effort. It is something which is with her for a long long time now. Connect with her on Instagram at @harshita.jayne. You can also subscribe at forms.gle/VRUY17m5ekqT2Z4b9 to receive in your mailbox her random thoughts/poems/musings.

  • An avid reader and aspiring writer, Paroma is always penning down her thoughts and experiences. Her short story can be read on Juggernaut and you can reach out to her at paromawrites@gmail.com

  • Sharad Kohli has been writing for two decades on a variety of subjects but it's music and sport that consume his days and on which he loves to share his thoughts. While a virus has been ravaging our lives and making us question the way of the world and our place within it, he figured to take a sabbatical to start work on a book. Despite the many challenges and the low moments, it's the bravest and best thing he has ever committed to. And having taken the plunge, he'd want to wish every reader with a story in their heart, the courage to follow their dreams. Because, it's never too late to march to the beat of your own drum. Follow his work on IG @shutterbug_sharad