Goodnight November
Good day December
Your nakedness is quite appalling
There are no birds; just silent leaves falling
But there is beauty in your quiet frailness
The sweet smell of sad nothingness
December, you shy, tender month
Your delicate song is frigid but pleasing
Your sickness is due to their constant teasing
What a voice you have, please remember
June, July, August; heal yourself December!
December, you tainted, misunderstood month
Alas! Here comes your fruitfulness
No lavender, but pure absurdness
Your flesh compares to a glazed metaphor
Lacking in color; the only season of four
December, you simple, glowing month
Your soul is a gift from the snow, the frost
Your impeccable fields come with a cost
Sad is the farmer, joy fills the priest
Windowpanes display a tree, a feast
December, you righteous, holy month