A Fresh Start
We’re off for a walk – it's New Year’s Day!
Dad says it’s to ‘blow all the cobwebs away’.
But there are no cobwebs, or spiders, or bees,
Just dreary grey skies and bare-branched trees.
A bright white hoarfrost blankets the ground,
With no one around, there is barely a sound;
Except for the crackle and creak of our feet,
Crushing the ice that has shrouded our street.
We think of the year that we’ve just put to bed,
We ponder the new one that stretches ahead...
Soon there’ll be buds on those bare-branched trees;
They’ll burst into bloom on a warm spring breeze.
The bees will return and the spiderwebs too,
The flowers will flourish; the sky will be blue.
For now, life is resting and everything’s still,
I huddle my dad in the harsh winter chill.
Dad says it’s to ‘blow all the cobwebs away’.
But there are no cobwebs, or spiders, or bees,
Just dreary grey skies and bare-branched trees.
A bright white hoarfrost blankets the ground,
With no one around, there is barely a sound;
Except for the crackle and creak of our feet,
Crushing the ice that has shrouded our street.
We think of the year that we’ve just put to bed,
We ponder the new one that stretches ahead...
Soon there’ll be buds on those bare-branched trees;
They’ll burst into bloom on a warm spring breeze.
The bees will return and the spiderwebs too,
The flowers will flourish; the sky will be blue.
For now, life is resting and everything’s still,
I huddle my dad in the harsh winter chill.
This poem is copyright (©) Sue Lancaster 2026
About the Writer
Sue Lancaster
Sue is a children's writer living in South West London with her husband, two children and pet budgie, Buddy. Before turning her hand to writing, Sue worked in TV as a Production Manager and got her degree in Media Studies at the University of East London. She grew up in Clacton on the coast of Essex and spent much of her childhood writing stories and poems, playing with her three cats, and being tormented by her two older brothers.
