By the time February comes along, one should be totally organised and involved with the new. But things of course work out less tidily than that, as Rebecca Pine observes in her introductory poem for February in her Poetry Diary for 2018, which she produces from Argyll.

                          NEW

The New Year came, the New Year went

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    when all our energies were bent

      on being full of good intent,

               and resolute.

   Alas too soon resolve was spent –

              we ate the fruit.

~

   Whatever Paper we may choose;

        what colour its politic hues;

       however singular its views

              or smart its chat –

    will always pluralize the ‘News’!

            Now why is that?

~

The Bride wants something old and new;

and something borrowed, something blue;

       (a garter, or perhaps a shoe?)

            Surprise, surprise,

   they may not always be to view

              to prying eyes!

~

Some say there’s nothing new on Earth.

Some say there’s just a dreadful dearth.

     But I can say (for what it’s worth)

           these lines, though few,

   have suffered all the pangs of birth.

           I’ll swear they’re new!