Twelve cards like

a clock on the wall.

Each card a number;

Each card a month.

January:

Snow stars on a sapphire field;

February:

Sun-sheened boats on gentle waters.

March,

the Birth of Meteorological

Spring;

A Heart-shaped Cloud on an

aerial canvas.

April,

a boat as elegant as

a Swan;

At one with Sky;

In-tune with Sea.

May;

Sea and Sky once more:

With a view of the realm

between sand bed and

surface;

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Where yellow-tailed and

jet-striped fish;

Swim in the midst of a

nautical dance.

June,

the start of

Glorious Summer,

Graced with pattern-stalked and

rainbow-capped mushrooms;

Their stalks mirrors of the pillars,

No, tree trunks;

That reach toward a cloud-wisped sky.

July,

as scarlet as Sister June

is azure;

A falcon-holding lady flanked by a lion

and a unicorn.

August,

the End,

and also the

Beginning.

A cream-wisp beach,

A matching boat;

A hammock from which a soul

rests in near-paradise.

A tortoise soars into the

firmament of September,

To catch a disc with the

luminosity of the sun:

Whilst the azure sky

of October,

Is graced by a pair of doves

with the plumage of snow.

May is the name for the

green field of November;

Over which lies a sun with

rays of magenta and a centre

of amethyst.

Yet the ultramarine sky

returns for December;

As deep as the châteauwalls are pale.

With weathercocks that

glisten like avians of gold;

Above a vista of emerald,

violet grapes and a not-so-winter harvest.

Yet December is not the end,

nor the last card:

For in the centre of the twelve

lies one named

Thirteen;

The scene of which is a

mirror of the cards that

encircle the centre:

Three Kings,

Mother and Father,

Angels, Servants and

a Radiant Child.

Twelve Cards,

Twelve Months,

And a Thirteenth in

the centre.