January's fire of gold

The hot south wind
The North wind cold
On days like these so I'm told
The days of January are like a Horoscope
So different, so pleasant
It pours like rain, like mint leaf in China
its like the feeling, a reminder
of yesterday's meeting or last night's kiss
Something that I wont miss.
It is a furnace of thoughts, a fire of gold.
A cauldron of tales of old
A blackberry Bold
Forget what you've been told
January's fire is pure gold