January’s grey and slushy,
February’s chill and drear,
March is wild and wet and windy,
April seldom brings much cheer.
In May, a day or two of sunshine,
Three or four in June, perhaps.
July is usually filthy,
August skies are open taps.
In September things start dying,
Then comes cold October mist.
November we make plans to spend
The best part of December pissed.
- Wendy Cope
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Or, as Michael Flanders and Donald Swann put it, ‘Freezing, wet December then… bloody January again!’ :)
M
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Marie Marshall
writer/poet/editor
Scotland
http://mairibheag.com
http://kvennarad.wordpress.com