POETRY FOR ME WITH JANUARY SPRING BEGINS (prof. Vito Leanza)
Sun rises every morning
To prolong its going;
It then sets in the late
Getting longer every date.
The first flower of the almond tree
Begins to open heart and thee;
The fireplaces are lit inside
And cyclamens bloom outside.
Under the great celestial vault
There are wind, cold and frost,
therefore all the snippets of seed
under white snow rest and feed.
It is not a month of richness
But it is the one of hopefulness.
Winter is of January the true season
But is the onset of spring in my reason.