She rides into town with a storm as her steed
With clicking ice spurs, and rattling reins
With somber delivery and the bleak look of gloom
Bursting with pride as an old year must end
She shoves her way into the house, out of spite
A gloomy gray cloud, who brings her own blight
Leaving a trail of mistletoe dust
Building a nest out of leftover crumbs
Flapping her wings and spinning her looms
Strutting her youth at the stroke of midnight
She stalks on wet feet, with some snow on her boots
She shouts out the news that some taxes are due
No care in the world she makes us feel blue!
Her windows are dark, and her doorway is bare
She holds a firm grip, till the end of her stay
Yet, slowly and surely, against her advice
Intrudes the domain, as she watches creeks rise
Then comes the sun, of a warm winter's day
It thaws her cold grip, with frowns of surprise
With remorse, she announces... it's time for goodbye!
Eyelids heavy with tears,
begin to form
from puffy grayish/black clouds.
It moves cunning and swift
like a lion’s roar
then softly on tired- padded- paws
it is gone,
gracing the terrain
with its magnificence.
Its door opens to a momentous
a welcoming grand appearance
of a new year
a new beginning
when the door opens…
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Sixth Place Winner ~ "Personification of January” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
January 29, 2012
I’m like the ground dirt
The soil that holds life within
Deep inside the heart of me
Seeds lie quite dormant
The seeds of plants, grass, and trees
Waiting for warm times to come
Entrant into Nette Onclaud's "Personification of January" contest
traipsing in with muddy boots.
Even new snowfall
seems to lose its luster and
houses seem no more to gleam.
In the aftermath
of festive celebrating,
the new month’s first day
is a paltry offering
with nothing great to follow.
The very first day
January comes calling,
some folks feel inspired
to make resolutions, but
others, hung over, just curse.
November, though dull,
at least brings gifts of thanks and
hope of joy to come.
the ugly sister.
Written by Andrea Dietrich/Jan. 1, 2012
in Tanka form, For nette onclaud's
Personification of January Contest
Oh January, thee of Winter’s spawn
I cannot wait till thou art gone
I’ve had enough of bleak, gray days
To last a lifetime, and so I pray
Thou wilt use thy icy, freezing touch
On us gently, with just a brush -
A coat of frosting on the trees
But not a blizzard, I beg of thee
No brown snow or ugly slush
No winter mess, nor snowy gusts
Just a sprinkling of thy winter skill -
Still picturesque, but not so chilled
A mild month, I ask of thee
To keep the warmth inside of me
Received 3rd place in "Personification of January" contest
She stamps her feet and whistles loud.
She will not be ignored.
Starting her reign, mighty and proud.
By most of us, not adored,
Though by her theatrics, we will not be bored.
for nettes "Personification of January" contest
by Francine Roberts 02/01/2012
January, you come in to applause,
As you nod goodbye to Santa Claus.
No other month is hailed like you.
You take for granted that's what we do.
Sometimes you're calm and sometimes wild.
Sometimes you're loved, sometimes reviled.
Depending on where in the world you be,
You are hated or loved, Mr. January.
In the North you're sure to come in cold
With brashness and a manner bold.
You save good manners for the South
When only warmth comes from your mouth.
We in the North will shut you out.
You can stay outside to rant and shout.
To us you're not a welcome guest.
You can be in fact, a dreadful pest.
Jetting out first as many cascades,
Addictive in a calendar of twelve,
New Year’s Day known in charades,
Unknown factions continue to delve.
Again and again it shapes natures tune.
Reveling waterfalls rouse in faded moon.
Yet without, life would have no commune.
Sponsor nette onclaud
Contest Name PERSONIFICATION OF JANUARY
January arrives like a newborn baby.
It is young, innocent, and full of naivete.
As we earthbound beings have known all the while,
it’s the first of the twelve to go through the turnstile.
The month will be the first to have Father Time write on its page.
Can we all comprehend what will be written by the sage?
After thirty-one days, January will be out the door.
each following month we expect to be more mature.
Robert Pettit for Personification of January Contest by Nette Onclaud
With thou beautiful eyes,
You make me see crazy flies
With thou strong arms,
So full of charms,
You protect me from any harms
With thou hungry lips,
You forbid me from taking dips
With thou sexy hips,
You keep giving me slips!
Like a handsome lover,
You give me essence
You surprise me with the flower's fragrance
You take me and make me dance
Never to your sad tunes
But to your husky melody
By the lonely dunes,
Only, you, January!
Name : Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Contest : Personification of January
Contest Sponsor : Nette Onclaud
Spit out hope dear January
The cycle has just begun
For grandiose resolutions:
Saving money, spending less,
Losing weight, eating healthy,
Walking, exercising more,
Sharing more precious time with love ones.
Light the fire dear January
Keep the torch burning
A spot light through a jungle of:
Joys, pains, triumphs, failures
Riddles of life!
Exalt as you open the door dear January
For you are the gateway
To the unknown 2012!
Entered in a contest:
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud
My January, I lost you last year
Your leaves left a whisper as they floated by
And I, I was left with a cold tear
Yet to you- It was merely a glistening eye
I remember so fondly the good times
In the beginning of a year once so clean
And when you ran away, I could not rhyme
For my garden was left without green
Dear January, now that you are returning
Stay longer, my friend, and be kind
Put your arm around me as the world is turning
And, once more, give me some peace of mind
PERSONIFICATION OF JANUARY
The first step of the journey to the city of twelve stars,
As the previous one left many deep scars,
The dark clouds offer a protective shield,
as green grasses spread their blankets over the field,
Mountains and valleys mingle and dine like friends,
Vacations,merriment and excesses have come to their ends,
The moon moves half way through the sky,
where the site of fruits on the street are so high,
I`ve just finished all in the last festivity,
but this lady of mine is full of activity,
For this excessive spending,I`m now broke,
with this great anxiety;hope I won`t have a stroke.
My heart is pumping very fast for seeing her,I don`t
know what will ...