Caroline Gill

Ode to Our Treasure Keepers

January: New Year is celebrated.
Feasts are held: friendships are created.
February, and snow lies deep
on hives for bees and pens for sheep.

Time for stories round the fire:
books replace the lute and lyre.

March winds and days to plough:
trim the vines to make them grow.
April marks the height of spring:
light and love, betrothal ring.

Time for tales of high romance:
watch the gallant horses prance.

May’s the month when shoots of green
fill the forest with their sheen.
June for haycocks, scythes and shadows
in the warmth of fragrant meadows.

Time for singing: joy and mirth
spill their blossom on the earth.

July, and harvesting of grain;
shearing sheep before the rain.
August: sporting falcons fly,
chasing realms beyond the sky.

Time for old and time for new:
rainbows cover every hue.

September when the grapes have swelled:
vats, and hungry mouths, are filled.
October: scarecrows mind their seed
while the pigeons flock to feed.

Time for parchment, paper, plays:
leaves are shed on autumn days.

November’s speckled pigs appear:
acorns mark the time of year.
December’s castle, with its towers,
shines within this Book of Hours.

Time for hoe and time for harrow:
fling the pruning hook of sorrow.
Time today but gone tomorrow:
guard the gold within your furrow.