December wails or wheels?

December   wails   or wheels?

When   the   year  with    ups  and downs,

Wayward   sentiments    and   peregrinations,

Wandering   souls, coming to   a close,

The   final   month  December,  cool  with  its

 parting    crescendo of  jubilations  and  windfalls.

The   wool  to   cover  you   cool ,

The  close   jacket   speaks  of

Its  loyalty, or  servitude, of  how

Many  years  of   its allegiance.

The  hanger  blissfully     smiles.

You   unearth  the  pot  of  memories,

The   century  old  house your

Ancestors   lived    died, the  coffee mugs

Arranged  in order  on the   wooden  shelf,

The   warm  home  brewed  coffee  

Served  in the   big  mug in the  December  morn,

In  the  garden the   doves   in the  merry  swing,

Make  us  crave  for  the  same  comfort,

December  wheels   out the  departing   year.

Drooping    Leaves   and     Dew drops   shed  tears.