November is a month of fire,
With flames of laughter reaching higher
Throughout the month, from day to day,
Banishing the charcoal grey
Of moody skies and fog and rain
In preparation, once again,
For something more; for families,
For friends and tinsel, bells and trees.
So, as the frost begins to bite
And the days slip into night,
Remember laughter, warmth and flame
And stoke the fire all the same.
(And may I add, though half in jest,
November babies are the best.)

Originally written over a decade ago and shared on various long-since-redundant personal social media accounts.