
January Cold Desolate
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 bears corn,
September 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.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Related quotes
Cheery Year
January is too soon here
A damp and cold start to the year
February follows on
With snow and ice that’s seldom gone
March appears next in line
And down comes rain all the time
April showers now are due
Lasting the whole month through
May and showers still persist
Bringing frost and fog and mist
June gets hot, insanely so
Everyone’s red and aglow
July bring chills mixed with hot
You’re never sure just what you’ve got
August the sun is up and bold
But the wind still keeps it cold
September the drizzle and ice is back
Keeping up a relentless attack
October’s colder so I hide
With a hot drink and stay inside
November sees your breath in the air
And colds and sneezes everywhere
December’s cold but brings some cheer
Then bloody January’s here
poem by Flying Lemming

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The 'Poem A Day' Project ~ Day 221
January is too soon here
A damp and cold start to the year
February follows on
With snow and ice that’s seldom gone
March appears next in line
And down comes rain all the time
April showers now are due
Lasting the whole month through
May and showers still persist
Bringing frost and fog and mist
June gets hot, insanely so
Everyone’s red and aglow
July bring chills mixed with hot
You’re never sure just what you’ve got
August the sun is up and bold
But the wind still keeps it cold
September the drizzle and ice is back
Keeping up a relentless attack
October’s colder so I hide
With a hot drink and stay inside
November sees your breath in the air
And colds and sneezes everywhere
December’s cold but brings some cheer
Then bloody January’s here
poem by Flying Lemming

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October is one of the peculiarly dangerous months to speculate in stocks. Others are July, January, April, September, November, May, March, June, December, August and February.
quote by Mark Twain

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When New Year Comes
When New Year Comes
Everybody Shivers
In the month of January
Which is cold and Airy
In February winter get’s Weary
Prepares for Leaving
Paving way for spring to come
In the month of March
Flowers loom Large
April comes
Summer knocks on the Door
When May comes,
Sun Brightens
Mangoes ripe and Juicy
Long hot days
Make June very tiring
Holidays for Children
All wait for Rain
Monsoon at its Peak
When July arrives
Rain brings Smile
August is the month of Freedom
Sometimes sticky sometimes Hot
In September one feels
Better then August
We call it Autumn
One see’s Flowers
Which are colourful and Rosy
October is the festival Month
Weather is good
Winter getting Ready
November makes everybody Happy
Everybody enjoys
Lights of Deepawali(Festival of Light)
In the Cold month of December
Christmas celebrated
Throughout the the World
Everybody says goodbye to the year
Welcomes New Year
On the night of 31’st December
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela

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The Months
January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
stirs the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daises at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy damns.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hand with posies.
Hot july brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm september brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Fresh October brings the pheasents,
Then to gather nuts is pleasent.
Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.
poem by Sara Coleridge

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Medley: Hallelujah / Last Month Of The Year
(l. cohen/traditional)
Hallelujah was originally contained in leonard cohen's various positions, while last month of the year is a blues traditional. on the cd booklet this song is credited only as hallelujah.
I heard there was a secret chord
That david played and it pleased the lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this :
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrough ya
She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Baby i've been here before
I've seen this room and i've walked this floor
I used to live alone before i knew ya
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not some victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
There was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me do ya
But remember when i moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah
Well, maybe there's a god above
But all i've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew ya
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah,
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...
[and here starts last month of the year]
Tell me what month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
Tell me what month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
Got january, january, march oh lord
Got april, may and june lord
You got july oh yeah
September, october and november
Got the twenty fifty
December is the last month of the year
What month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
What month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
Got january, february, march oh lord
Got april, may and june lord
You got july oh but
September, october and november
Got the twenty fifty
December is the last month of the year
(thank you melbourne)
song performed by by Jeff Buckley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer into Winter
June stars
January moon
The light dies too quickly
And the dark arrives too soon
April blossom
And august bliss
The frost in the winter
Seals your lips with a kiss
February snow
October trees
When summer dies
So do the leaves
November rain
March flowers
When winter comes
So do dark hours
July sun
September nights
When summer goes to bed
The birds all take flight
December is left
Till the very last
As we look back
At the months just past
poem by Nicola Burkett

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2010 Wishes Of Happy New Year ! !
As A New Year begins, I Wish You :
Joyful January, .............Funny February
Marvelous March, .............Amazing April
Magical May, .................Jokesome June
Jubilant July, ...........Astonishing August
Splendid September, ..Odorous October
Nice November &...Delightful December
_____________________________________ ______________
1Jan2010
Written By :
poem by HaZeM PaKKaR

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Greeting Us With A New Surprise
After the March winds
we have the April rain.
Now in May we watch
the pretty flows grow.
June, July and August
are the flowering seasons
at the height of the noonday’s sun.
September brings the autumn leaves
near the closing of the year.
October seems to bear all
as the autumn leaves begin to fall.
November brings a chill
to every living thing
announcing winter is on its way.
December’s snow blankets
the hard frozen ground.
January brings in a new year
to February’s valentines.
And so each moth rolls by,
each greeting us with a new surprise.
23-24 May 2008
poem by David Harris

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Blues Of The Months
The blues of January,
The blues of February,
The blues of March,
The blues of April,
The blues of May,
The blues of June,
The blues of July,
The blues of August,
The blues of September,
The blues of October,
The blues of November,
The blues of December,
Meet me there if you can!
And like Glory-Land and Merry-land;
But my home will always accept in your sweet blues.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Non Est Factum
That i see the dawn of january
and cuddle lovely february
confused in daring march
my sweet maternal april
when suddenly its may
the year halved in june
and picks a startling july
i sought to smile in august
Mba- begins in september
my country waits october
for sure here comes november
and now i will remember
the verity of december
my safety non est factum
how i flee like valiant
or boldly stand like coward.
poem by Emmanuel Odum

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January
I know you told me this before
I know you told me this a million times
You say you dont know how you feel
You dont know if you even love me anymore
If she was a good kisser
Then i'd know how much i'd miss her
January came
For April you have stayed
June i was in heaven
July was just the same
September rolled around
October wore a frown
By Christmas we were through
I wish i didnt say i'm sorry
I wish you loved me all the same
I wish i wasnt such a wishy-washy prick
I wish i said just how i fetlt
If i was a good listener
Maybe you would still be here
January came
For April you have stayed
June i was in heaven
July was just the same
September rolled around
October wore a frown
By Christmas we were through
I still miss the way we touched
I miss the way oyou'd bite my tongue
I miss the way you run away
You run away
January February March April May
June through December I wish you would stay
I know you're leaving me
I know you told me this before
I know you told me this a million times
You say you dont know how you feel
When will you know just how you feel
January came
For April you have stayed
June i was in heaven
July was just the same
September rolled around
October wore a frown
By Christmas we were through
song performed by by Goldfinger

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Calendar Poem
1
in January
I met Jane
in February
it was all love
flying Cupids
and St Valentine’s
in March
we marched down the aisle
I slipped the ring in her finger
and she let me slip into her that night
in April
I came home early and saw her kissing some guy
and when I coughed
they both laughed at me and said:
“Happy April Fool’s Day! ”
A belated one, though;
still - I just laughed,
always love surprises
and a good sport I’d always been
I don’t remember what we did
In May -
but the predominant emotion is one of dismay
June saw us
make love
under the moon
and at noon
in July
she made full use of her vocal cords
and reached her peak of pitch:
“Oh God! - you’re just like any guy!
You’ve turned the house into a sty! ”
August I decided to be a little dignified;
and in September we were like King and Queen
with diamond crown and scented scepter each
2
in October she crashed our new
shiny, costly SUV Rover
and I just found it difficult to stay sober
November
is a month to remember, to remember
well it’s something private between me and Jane
it’s something to do with a member, a member
November - Oh baby,
it’s something to remember, remember...
December came and - was it the heat
or the cold? -
by the end we were dismembered, dismembered:
I’m alone again
and this time maybe
in scented January
in fresh January I’ll find May
poem by Raj Arumugam

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Skip Through the Year
For those of January
May they always have
Something fun to do
For in January
You start everything new
Those born in February
They shall have a wide range
Of things to differ
Of things to change
In March, you shall see
The fun will begin
With the sunlight along them
For then begins Spring
In April the tricks
And jokes have no end
Watch out for liars
For words twist and bend
May, the season
Where all is green
Where flowers bloom
Where all is seen
June
Now summer has begun
All should be happy
And smile in the sun
July, the middle
Of warmth is the season
Where things are done
For no real reason
August, pray
School is there
Where has vacation gone,
Tell me, where?
In September the leaves
Begin to fall
Some call this Autumn
Some call it Fall
October, get ready
For trick or treat
For all kids love
To recieve things sweet
November, believe it
The year's almost gone
Now winter begins
Too long the sun shone
December, now go
To your sled or snow cart
Sit down and get ready
A new year to start.
poem by Jenny Diamond

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A Year’s Windfalls
On the wind of January
Down flits the snow,
Travelling from the frozen North
As cold as it can blow.
Poor robin redbreast,
Look where he comes;
Let him in to feel your fire,
And toss him of your crumbs.
On the wind in February
Snowflakes float still,
Half inclined to turn to rain,
Nipping, dripping, chill.
Then the thaws swell the streams,
And swollen rivers swell the sea:—
If the winter ever ends
How pleasant it will be!
In the wind of windy March
The catkins drop down,
Curly, caterpillar-like,
Curious green and brown.
With concourse of nest-building birds
And leaf-buds by the way,
We begin to think of flowers
And life and nuts some day.
With the gusts of April
Rich fruit-tree blossoms fall,
On the hedged-in orchard-green,
From the southern wall.
Apple-trees and pear-trees
Shed petals white or pink,
Plum-trees and peach-trees;
While sharp showers sink and sink.
Little brings the May breeze
Beside pure scent of flowers,
While all things wax and nothing wanes
In lengthening daylight hours.
Across the hyacinth beds
The wind lags warm and sweet,
Across the hawthorn tops,
Across the blades of wheat.
In the wind of sunny June
Thrives the red rose crop,
Every day fresh blossoms blow
While the first leaves drop;
White rose and yellow rose
And moss-rose choice to find,
And the cottage cabbage-rose
Not one whit behind.
On the blast of scorched July
Drives the pelting hail,
From thunderous lightning-clouds, that blot
Blue heaven grown lurid-pale.
Weedy waves are tossed ashore,
Sea-things strange to sight
Gasp upon the barren shore
And fade away in light.
In the parching August wind
Corn-fields bow the head,
Sheltered in round valley depths,
On low hills outspread.
Early leaves drop loitering down
Weightless on the breeze,
First fruits of the year's decay
From the withering trees.
In brisk wind of September
The heavy-headed fruits
Shake upon their bending boughs
And drop from the shoots;
Some glow golden in the sun,
Some show green and streaked,
Some set forth a purple bloom,
Some blush rosy-cheeked.
In strong blast of October
At the equinox,
Stirred up in his hollow bed
Broad ocean rocks;
Plunge the ships on his bosom,
Leaps and plunges the foam,—
It's oh! for mothers' sons at sea,
That they were safe at home.
In slack wind of November
The fog forms and shifts;
All the world comes out again
When the fog lifts.
Loosened from their sapless twigs
Leaves drop with every gust;
Drifting, rustling, out of sight
In the damp or dust.
Last of all, December,
The year's sands nearly run,
Speeds on the shortest day,
Curtails the sun;
With its bleak raw wind
Lays the last leaves low,
Brings back the nightly frosts,
Brings back the snow.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Life On Sea-Shore
Life on sea-shore
In a year
And a year has twelve months
That signifies twelve animals
And it is love of animal you say.
Let us begin with your saying
January-rat
February-ox
March-tig er
April-rabbit
May-dragon
June-snake
July-horse
August-sheep
September-monkeyOctober-cock
November-dog
December-boarAnd here you see
Complete the life
And all are in five
You are to think
What are the five.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

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January Jumps About
January jumps about
in the frying pan
trying to heat
his frozen feet
like a Canadian.
February scuttles under
any dish's lid
and she thinks she's dry because she's
thoroughly well hid
but it still rains all month long
and it always did.
March sits in the bath tub
with the taps turned on.
Hot and cold, cold or not,
Has the Winter gone?
In like a lion, out like a lamb
March on, march on, march on.
April slips about
sometimes indoors
and sometimes out
sometimes sheltering from a little
shower of bright rain
in an empty milk bottle
then dashing out again.
May, she hides nowhere,
nowhere at all,
Proud as a peacock
walking by a wall.
The Maytime O the Maytime,
full of leaf and flower.
The Maytime O the Maytime
is the loveliest of all.
June discards his shirt and
trousers by the stream
and takes the first dip of the year
into a jug of cream.
June is the gay time
of every girl and boy
who run about and sing and shout
in pardonable joy.
July by the sea
sits dabbling with sand
letting it run out of
her rather lazy hand,
and sometimes she sadly
thinks: "As I sit here
ah, more than half the year is gone,
the evanescent year."
August by an emperor
was given his great name.
It is gold and purple
like a Hall of Fame.
(I have known it rather cold
and wettish, all the same.)
September lies in shadows
of the fading summer
hearing, in the distance,
the silver horns of winter
and not very far off
the coming autumn drummer.
October, October
apples on the tree,
the Partridge in the Wood and
the big winds at sea,
the mud beginning in the lane
the berries bright and red
and the big tree wildly
tossing its old head.
November, when the fires
love to burn, and leaves
flit about and fill the air
where the old tree grieves.
November, November
its name is like a star
glittering on many things that were
but few things that are.
Twelfth and last December.
a few weeks away
we hear the silver bells
of the stag and the sleigh
flying from the tundras
far far away
bringing to us all the gift
of our Christmas Day.
poem by George Barker

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Black History Month
In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.
But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!
Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...
*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Seven-Month-Long Lane
From October to May
All in all it's been okay.
From October to November
It was like pure bliss.
From November to December
I just wore my silly simper.
December to the next month,
Then came thoughts about a kiss.
From January to February
We were both beneficiary.
February to March
I felt a little out of place.
From March to April
I just held up the anvil
After April came May,
The final stage of our decay...
(One thing after another)
An uncomfortable place.
(I had to make it alright again.)
Today is the first full day
With these old, new shoes on.
Pardon my pout;
They're a little bit tight.
I'm trusting God to keep me,
To pardon my doubt,
Help me get back in these old, new shoes.
From October to May,
All in all I can't complain.
(May 18,2009; the day after the breakup. For Lane, thank you for the past seven months. Like I said, all in all it was great! You were so wonderful to me all the way and I thank you for understanding me & being among the best of my friends. I love you.)
poem by Chanlin Boyd Cox

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A Year's Carols
JANUARY
HAIL, January, that bearest here
On snowbright breasts the babe-faced year
That weeps and trembles to be born.
Hail, maid and mother, strong and bright,
Hooded and cloaked and shod with white,
Whose eyes are stars that match the morn.
Thy forehead braves the storm's bent bow,
Thy feet enkindle stars of snow.
FEBRUARY
Wan February with weeping cheer,
Whose cold hand guides the youngling year
Down misty roads of mire and rime,
Before thy pale and fitful face
The shrill wind shifts the clouds apace
Through skies the morning scarce may climb.
Thine eyes are thick with heavy tears,
But lit with hopes that light the year's.
MARCH
Hail, happy March, whose foot on earth
Rings as the blast of martial mirth
When trumpets fire men's hearts for fray.
No race of wild things winged or finned
May match the might that wings thy wind
Through air and sea, through scud and spray.
Strong joy and thou were powers twin-born
Of tempest and the towering morn.
APRIL
Crowned April, king whose kiss bade earth
Bring forth to time her lordliest birth
When Shakespeare from thy lips drew breath
And laughed to hold in one soft hand
A spell that bade the world's wheel stand,
And power on life, and power on death,
With quiring suns and sunbright showers
Praise him, the flower of all thy flowers.
MAY
Hail, May, whose bark puts forth full-sailed
For summer; May, whom Chaucer hailed
With all his happy might of heart,
And gave thy rosebright daisy-tips
Strange frarance from his amorous lips
That still thine own breath seems to part
And sweeten till each word they say
Is even a flower of flowering May.
JUNE
Strong June, superb, serene, elate
With conscience of thy sovereign state
Untouched of thunder, though the storm
Scathe here and there thy shuddering skies
And bid its lightning cross thine eyes
With fire, thy golden hours inform
Earth and the souls of men with life
That brings forth peace from shining strife.
JULY
Hail, proud July, whose fervent mouth
Bids even be morn and north be south
By grace and gospel of thy word,
Whence all the splendour of the sea
Lies breathless with delight in thee
And marvel at the music heard
From the ardent silent lips of noon
And midnight's rapturous plenilune.
AUGUST
Great August, lord of golden lands,
Whose lordly joy through seas and strands
And all the red-ripe heart of earth
Strikes passion deep as life, and stills
The folded vales and folding hills
With gladness too divine for mirth,
The gracious glories of thine eyes
Make night a noon where darkness dies.
SEPTEMBER
Hail, kind September, friend whose grace
Renews the bland year's bounteous face
With largess given of corn and wine
Through many a land that laughs with love
Of thee and all the heaven above,
More fruitful found than all save thine
Whose skies fulfil with strenuous cheer
The fervent fields that knew thee near.
OCTOBER
October of the tawny crown,
Whose heavy-laden hands drop down
Blessing, the bounties of thy breath
And mildness of thy mellowing might
Fill earth and heaven with love and light
Too sweet for fear to dream of death
Or memory, while thy joy lives yet,
To know what joy would fain forget.
NOVEMBER
Hail, soft November, though thy pale
Sad smile rebuke the words that hail
Thy sorrow with no sorrowing words
Or gratulate thy grief with song
Less bitter than the winds that wrong
Thy withering woodlands, where the birds
Keep hardly heart to sing or see
How fair thy faint wan face may be.
DECEMBER
December, thou whose hallowing hands
On shuddering seas and hardening lands
Set as a sacramental sign
The seal of Christmas felt on earth
As witness toward a new year's birth
Whose promise makes thy death divine,
The crowning joy that comes of thee
Makes glad all grief on land or sea.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne

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