What will, in January, bloom?
What, in the winter, thrives and grows?

The loons cry out their tuneful woes,
and winds, they sweep around like brooms.

The skies, sometimes, are filled with gloom,
while stalks lie withered in their rows.

What will, in January, bloom?
What, in the winter, thrives and grows?
I lay my head upon your womb,
my love for you, it starts to flow;

it's this that blooms, as we both know,
and maketh me your winter groom.

What will, in January, bloom?
What, in the winter, thrives and grows?







JANUARY BLOOMSWhat will, in January, bloom?
What, in the winter, thrives and grows?
The loons cry out their tuneful woes,
and winds, they sweep around like brooms.
The skies, sometimes, are filled with gloom,
while stalks lie withered in their rows.
What will, in January, bloom?
What, in the winter, thrives and grows?
I lay my head upon your womb,
my love for you, it starts to flow;
it’s this that blooms, as we both know,
and maketh me your winter groom.
What will, in January, bloom?
What, in the winter, thrives and grows?
DAVID ROGERS