I see no thawing in January’s demeanour
It is as cold and stiff as it can be
It arrives with its three consorts
Fog, snow and sleet
Banishing the sun and stealing its light
Turning everything damp and dreary.
Somehow January has come to know
I am not too fond of it
So it increases my woes and takes revenge
by giving me a wheezing chest
And leaving the tip of my nose and digits all frozen
To save myself from its icy stare
I prefer to remain ensconced
Within the four walls of my home
Waiting for gentler February to arrive.