top of page
by Kate Dowling



Is the best month and

It is mine.

Free from the grasp

Of Christmas

I hurtle towards my birthday

With gusto

Because it belongs to me.


Don’t wish my January away.

Hold it near

Like the first cup of tea at breakfast.


Don’t moan that the January days are

So cold, so bleak.

Join me in my joy and

Blow out the candles.


Make a wish, love. 

bottom of page