Poem – Month Of  February – Hilaire Belloc

The winter moon has such a quiet car 

That all the winter nights are dumb with rest. 

She drives the gradual dark with drooping crest, 

And dreams go wandering from her drowsy star. 

Because the nights are silent, do not wake: 

But there shall tremble through the general earth, 

And over you, a quickening and a birth. 

The sun is near the hill-tops for your sake. 
The latest born of all the days shall creep 

To kiss the tender eyelids of the year; 

And you shall wake, grown young with perfect sleep, 

And smile at the new world, and make it dear 

With living murmurs more than dreams are deep. 

Silence is dead, my Dawn; the morning’s here.

Poem – Month of January – Hilaire Belloc

It freezes- all across a soundless sky 
The birds go home. The governing dark’s begun: 

The steadfast dark that waits not for a sun; 

The ultimate dark wherein the race shall die. 
Death, with his evil finger to his lip, 

Leers in at human windows, turning spy 

To learn the country where his rule shall lie 

When he assumes perpetual generalship. 
The undefeated enemy, the chill 

That shall benumb the voiceful earth at last, 

Is master of our moment, and has bound 

The viewless wind it-self. There is no sound. 

It freezes. Every friendly stream is fast. 

It freezes; and the graven twigs are still.