The month twas White and decked with Gold,
With gifts for young, the gifts from old.
We saw the films and read the books,
A Reddened nose; Alone v. crooks.
And then the time to mull the past,
To turn to wine unmulled at last;
Now, wine that fizzles, cracks, and pops.
To toast the year, as eras swapped.
But New Year came and with it brought
The well-known fear, the battles fought.
A discontent, a sorrow, gloom.
Les Fleurs du mal in winter bloom.
Those wholesome thoughts of Home Alone,
From days ago, they now had flown.
And then we stood, alone ourselves.
No Christmas cheer, no cheery elves.
That nose of Red, now drowned in Blue.
Inside, a monster kicked and grew.
The lights that once adorned the tree,
Had been unplugged. In darkness: me.
Until the sun, though swooping low,
Crept up the sky to ease the woe.
The dawn had broke, had broken Black,
Unshackled limbs, and papered cracks.
The Blues refract, reveal their shades.
A spectrum, range, of colours made.
Azure, Cyan, a Sapphire Blue!
A myriad of sundry hues.
The saddest Blue, reduced to one.
The January Blues had gone.
