Showing posts with label Poems about January. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poems about January. Show all posts

Monday, January 27, 2025

Late January is a Time of Grey - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Late January is a Time of Grey

 

I read a little in Billy Collins just now

Because Tolkien is in the other room

Along with the laundry and an unmade bed

Late January is a time of grey

 

I just want to sit with my coffee awhile

And then I’ll stow the laundry and make the bed

The dishwasher can remain silent until tomorrow

Late January is a time of grey

 

I was nibbled to death by ducks today

Because

Late January is a time of grey

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Unfinished Lines - poem



Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Unfinished Lines

January is an unfinished line
An incomplete cover judged by its book
A door ajar, a mislaid fountain pen
Unanswered letters bound with rubber bands
Or stacked and listed on a little screen
A chessboard king still menaced and in check
Wandering iambics not yet sorted out
Unfinished business from Porlock Parva -
January is but a fragment of
A life still littered with unfinished lines

Monday, January 11, 2016

Coins and Raindrops - poem



Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Coins and Raindrops

There is much to be said for January:
The barn coat in whose pockets you find coins
Left over from a coffee run last year
Spare change from the last chilly day of spring
Dark-webbing trees framing rain-heavy clouds
As fragments of a painting never finished
By an artist of the mind dreaming through
His afternoon walk among expectations
That need not be fulfilled this side of dusk -
There is much to be said for January

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

January Weary


Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

January Weary

 

Dark weeks of wind and clouds and rain have passed

Into the east where wild storms go to die

While in the west above the woods the moon

A glowing curve of cold reigns over the sky

Now close the door after a lingering look

Upon silence and frost this January night

And dream by the fire, with blanket and book,

Sweet images of spring in the flickering light

And sunlight tomorrow - the frost won’t last

Long weeks of wind and clouds and rain have passed