Thursday, 3 December 2015



January cold desolate;
February all dripping wet;
March wind ranges;
April changes;
Birds sing in tune
To flowers of May,
And sunny June
Brings longest day,
In scorched July
The storm-clouds fly
Lightning torn;
August corn,
September bears fruit;
In rough October
Earth must disrobe her;
Stars fall and shoot
In keen November;
And night is long
And cold is strong
In bleak December.

Christina Rossetti

It seems incredible to me that here we are at the end of another year yet again.


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