A grey expanse hovers above the gloom,

Matching the feelings of mass despair,

A muted landscape of colourless features,

Black skeletons of trees hanging bare.


The light from a fading sun struggling down,

Weakened by a blanket of thick cloud,

Insulated by the factory’s bellowing stacks,

Making products for the waiting crowd.


Dirty streets paved with hard pressed mud,

Covering the tarnished blocks of gold,

Hiding away the city’s wealth from people,

Who are commodities bought and sold.


The winter of discontent rises yet again,

The most common banks are full of food,

Feeding more than the hungry five thousand,

Struggling to give enough free gratitude.


The bright lights of Christmas are packed up,

The magic has faded into good memories,

The leftovers have been eaten with pickles,

Now the laughter has just become stories. 


The daily walk through the darkness repeats,

Cold flows in the nose down to the toes,

Waiting for the late bus or train to arrive,

Which comes with a fare hike it follows.


A brand new year started with the big bang,

Full of optimism and that uncorked bottle,

Sparkling fizz and the life changing resolution,

Now the brakes on and forget that throttle!


This month quickly turns on to the slow lane,

Getting hit by slushy salt and muddy puddles,

Crawling along behind the red warning lights,

Longing for some warm comforting cuddles.


The long dead of nights start before dinner,

Plummeting temperatures are on the rise,

Cold snaps that break the central heating,

Always on a Friday night without surprise.


Sickness and viruses hang about everywhere,

They have nothing much else to do,

Preying on the elderly and vulnerable ones,

One of the most evil sickoes is flu.


Clogging up all the precious hospital beds,

Taking up most of your doctor’s time too,

We all were urged to get a vaccination,

But most of us had something else to do.


Then the day comes from out of the blues,

When it feels freezing but not too cold,

White wisps of wonder fall from the grey,

To stop everything and put plans on hold.


Grounding planes and shutting down schools,

A children’s playing field and battleground,

Snowballs fly and sledges come from up high,

But from adults just comes a groaning sound.


Dark dank days and dismal nights throughout,  

Each year stutters to a shakily stalling start,

But each of us will get through thirty-one days,

And take the brand shiny new year to heart.  

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