Saturday, 9 December 2017

January Weather

Dear Reader,

                                                                                   Winter Scenes

I have decided to take a break until Sunday, January 14th.   I have very much enjoyed writing this blog for the last two years, but I feel that since my husband passed away this summer it has been a trifle dull, as I have been myself.  It has been difficult for me to concentrate on the blog and its contents since I have found grieving all consuming, apart from all the administration I had to deal with too.   So a Christmas break seemed a good idea.

I wish you all a very happy Christmas and lots of good things in the New Year, and I hope you will enjoy this last poem about January weather.


January Weather

We know from recorded history,
that in St. Merryn
a hundred years ago,
there blew great winds
and the sea was smoking white.

We know it was warm in Kent
where the thrushes thought spring
had come, and piped away.
And primroses were a yellow carpet
in North Norfolk,
or so the parson wrote.

We know of cutting winds in Hampshire,
of icicles and frost, and
in Skiddaw on a mild day,
a brown spotted butterfly was seen.
We know that hungry church mice
ate Bible markers,
hungry people died of cold.

And we know that this dark winter month
had days of snow, that wild clouds
gathered in the sky unleashing icy rain,
churning up the plough.

An yet, again, we also know
the sun shone in that distant year,
it was warm enough to push through
early snowdrops, and the Holy Thorn.
Light was glimpsed, here and there,
all life struggled for its moments.


Very best wishes, Patricia

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dear Patricia, I hope you are not snowed up there!
A lovely and appropriate poem to end the year. Thank you for all the poems and blogs and roll on January! XXX