December the First
All through November,
We dash into Winter –
Not me.
November’s November,
And I’m not a sprinter
When leaves are still falling
And afternoons glinter,
You see.
All through November,
I’ll take my Autumnal sweet time.
I’ve no wish to onrush
The noise and the crush of the big pantomime.
But finally, here comes December –
From season of mist to the season of mistletoe,
Nip becomes frost becomes why-won’t-it-snow-?
Finally, finally, on comes December –
And finally, even I unleash the cheer…
So haul up the streamers and load up the larder,
For now is the season of twinkles and ardour –
Throughout a whole twelfth, and for only a twelfth, of the year.
Rhyming Couplets 