© By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)
January oh my oh my
Where did last year get up and fly
It seems only just yesterday
nineteen 0 six came out to play
The past is past and future here
What will happen good on this year
Perhaps the war will come to end
And good things will ride happy wind
Pollyanna thoughts in my head
Nothing bad only good instead
The sky above is blue not grey
No taxes should any of us pay
It's fun to dream of cheerful things
Flowers in bloom and birds that sing
And wish away unhappy thought
Can happiness really be bought
No stormy weather in your life
Nothing at all to cause a strife
Nineteen 0 seven is now here
Lets have no sorrow and no fear
© By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@msn.com)
January is the time of the year to pause and reflect.
Perhaps on something we didn't say out of neglect.
The years are swiftly rolling us through time.
We have lost our youth and no longer are in our prime.
No longer living in the past are we,
And the future isn't ours to change or see.
We only have the present to make the most of.
Our goal should be to do much out of love.
Remember not my past I pray,
But remember me for what I did today.
© By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)
Hello January, goodbye December,
All you will do is get colder and snowier.
But the sun will rise sooner and set later,
So one virtue you do exhibit.
Hello another new year,
Will I be wiser or dottier?
Will it good health see,
Or will all the maladies befall me?
Hello another year,
Older but am I truly wiser?
Hello to more aches and pains,
As the joints get stiffer
And the lubricant thinner?
Hello to all as I look about,
Laugh and smile at this
At the world situation.
Will we get out of Iraq?
Will be retreat and leave Afghanistan?
Will dumb George get us
Into more messes?
Only time will tell and
We with our 20-20 hindsight
Are wiser than most.
© By RickMack (email@example.com)
Welcome to you, first month of the year,
And, to two thousand and six, farewell.
The worst year ever, for me, thatís clear -
Ah, the horror stories I could tell.
Death came to visit and took away
The best friend that I have ever known,
After a three-month hospital stay.
Now I must face this new year alone.
Two thousand and six, you took your toll,
You have pummeled me relentlessly,
Breaking my heart and bruising my soul,
You have squeezed all zest for life from me.
January, all I ask of you,
And from monthly followers, as well,
Is to grant me now the peace thatís due,
For I have spent enough time in Hell.
On pleasant thoughts, let me concentrate,
And put those grim days behind me now,
Knowing Iíll never face a worse fate
Than the one Iíve lived through, anyhow.
For all that this year can pose for me
Will be minor in comparison,
To those many months of misery.
Bring it on, January one!
© By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)
Here I sit, trying to get started.
Looking at a year that's now departed.
Whatever I did or didn't do
Don't matter now, that one is through.
In the morning will rise the sun.
It'll shine 'til day is done.
With the moon will come the night
Bathing our dreams in silver light.
What I do or what I won't,
Some I might... others I don't.
Can only wish for what I need.
Do I want it?...YES, Indeed!
Take this thought for what it's worth,
We are all living on this earth.
End to end and shore to shore,
Let's stop all this worthless war.
Thank P.J. O'Rourke for this quote;
"Let's give peace a fighting chance."
© By Frannie (Frannie516@comcast.net)
Rick, I read your words and feel your pain
There's nothing we can do to take it way
But I promise you the pain will lessen in time
And be replaced by a dull ache that you can handle.
And then one day, perhaps in 2007
You'll awake one day recalling happy memories
Of the love you shared and lost too soon
And those memories will make you smile.
Life will never be the same again, that's true
But life goes on and somewhere along the way
You'll find the strength to carry on and then
One day, to your surprise, life will be good again.
© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)
Mama bird must fly away
There is no nest emptier
Than the wintered January.
Fledglings not meant to tarry,
They marry to their own.
Mama bird cannot fly
With her heavy wings,
So after all she must stay
And pray their nests be strong.
God has left her a lonely song.
She will sing its tune,
Keep a stable nest,
For one may want to come
And rest from gathering twigs
And worms for digs.
© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)
I am swaying
As a tweaked spring
Seeks to balance
And it will,
Oh, I hope it will
Daisies must take over
Wild red poinsettias;
Quiet music take away
The Drummer Boy,
The spring seeks its core
To stand in less stability,
Swaying slower, its metal
Sprung with years
Of too many tweaks.