by the Pastoral Poet
Hail a new beginning, the year has turned,
The completion of the annual round.
The tallow of time has steadfastly burned,
And renewed enthusiasms abound.
The popping of corks and merry making,
All over, along with the hearty toasts.
The rubbing of eyes at morning’s waking,
Dispels the spectre of previous ghosts.
In sylvan slumber, the trees are resting,
Denuded of leaves, save the evergreens.
The gnawing Northerly wind is testing,
And the pond, an icy carapace screens.
A delight seeing geese on outstretched wings,
Changing formation with sinuous ease,
Whilst the robin’s cheery melody brings
A soupcon of warmth to days such as these.
Cleanse the mind of each melancholy thought:
Put aside every negative thing,
And the havoc long past Winters have wrought,
For each day is one day nearer to Spring.