Okay I don't normally like anyone reading my poems, but I thought maybe I'd put one up and see how it goes, then I'd put some more personal ones up.
This is one I wrote for school. (It's not my best)

Winter Night
It was quiet in the house on the winter's eve.
Nothing could be heard,
besides the faint whistle of the wind and the crackle of the fire on the hearth.
Snow was gathering on the window sills, like it was being sprinkled through a sieve.
Then, what came and sat there looking in, was a little bird.

The freezing air bit at my cheeks and nose,
Already fallen snow is blown round and round.
There is a whisper, but it's barely a sound.
The bitter wind blows.
Out the door, forward I would bound.

Brown fingers, long and topped with snow,
Reached out from under the moonlight.
White crystals grasped it and glistened bright,
against the shadow
Against the night.

There was a soft whistle of the wind,
In the distance growing louder,
blowing over the frosty white powder.
Under the moon the snow still shined.
As they fell they caught the light, each a snowy white flower.

Glistening Crystals of frost,
Fell slowly from the sky.
So slow, they fell by.
Soon they would be lost,
With all the rest on the ground, who traveled from up so high.