January with your snows,
And your winds, that coldly blow.
Making all the landscape bleak,
Stinging nose and biting cheek.
Leaving all with one desire,
To be by a warm, warm fire.
Month of paying old year bills,
Month of many winter ill's.
Go, O month, and do not tarry,
Please let us try February.
E.H. Coe 1971