January

January's shadow comes knocking at my door
Pleading like my mistress for me to let her in.
Gather up the oranges; lay rushes on the floor.
We'll call upon the year to start anew again.
A courtly dance with music lulled with dulcet lutes,
The swirl of beaded skirts in tafetta and silk,
She heeds the lilting call of mandolins and flutes
Hidden neath the tapestries of indigo and gilt.
Her eyes shall be my reckless winter night
Her arms shall make a harbor where warmer winds can cling.
We will linger in the candles' shuttered light
And her mouth will yield to me the gentle breath of spring.


For the DFC The form is a Canzone.

It is dedicated to Victoria.

Credits:






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