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It’s January

I’ve not written any poetry in such a long time, but am feeling a little inspired again.

This is one of mine from January 2015, originally published on my old blog.

january

It’s January
A time of endings and of beginnings;
Out with the old and in with the new.
A new year a new me.
It’s January
A time of diets and sobriety.
No fun. No Thanks.
I’ll pass.
It’s January
A time to reflect and to plan.
A calmness fringed with excitement
Of the unknown in the coming year.
It’s January
A time of Birch to start with,
Rowan to end with.
Following the ancient Celtic Ogham wisdom.
It’s January
A time of true winter;
December was just pretending.
The Cailleach enjoying her dance.
It’s January
A time of icy blasts
And plummeting temperatures.
Yet shocking and surprising it would seem!
It’s January
A time of bleak, harsh greys;
Beautiful pinky gold sunrises.
An unparalleled stillness.
It’s January
A time to hibernate;
Embrace comfort until Imbolc.
For then, it’s February.
Lissa, 21.01.15

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