January

January

When you lie awake in your night-time bed,
With the tick of the clock running through your head,
Not sleeping.
When the blackened sky of the endless night,
Makes you long to see a welcome sight,
Come creeping.

As you toss and turn, and you groan and sigh,
Then you see at last that the lighter sky,
Is making.
Then there becomes a brighter world,
As a brand new day is again unfurled,
Dawn’s breaking.

When the Winter’s dull and awful long,
And you long to hear the Summer song,
Don’t worry.
When the lashing storm, and the dreary rain,
Makes you yearn to see the Sun again,
No hurry.

Nature has her ways, and the endless days,
Will yield to ones of Summer rays,
Her story.
Then the Springtime bloom will dispel our fear,
As our Lord unfolds another year,
All glory.

Mick Westwood