Page 13 - I Am The Seed
P. 13
2nd
THE NEW YEAR
The Young New Year has come so soon I wonder where the Old Years go?
To some dim land behind the moon Where starlight glimmers, pale and low.
And everything is grey and cold
And there they sit, those ancient years, Their eyes so kind, and dim and old Their faces lined with vanished cares.
Their voices rattle, dry like bones, The while they talk of what has been, And murmur in their hollow tones Of all the triumphs they have seen.
While the Young Year, with earnest eyes, Comes buoyant on, to run his race,
Nor dreams how fast his life-span flies Nor how his end draws on apace.
Anonymous
3rd
JANUARY
January is
a clean white sheet, newly-ironed; an empty page;
a field of freshly-fallen snow waiting to be mapped
by our footsteps.
John Foster
4th
JANUARY
Little January
Tapped at my door today.
And said, “Put on your winter wraps, And come outdoors to play.”
Little January
Is always full of fun;
Today we coasted down the hill, Until the set of sun.
Little January
Will stay a month with me
And we will have such jolly times — Just come along and see.
Winifred C. Marshall
JANUARY
13