Her name doth not bespeak her guild
Her triumph and her tear
She, both tender and strong-willed
We simply call her Year…….
Just a small four-letter word
To sum a twelve-month span
Not a hint of joy or hurt
That Year doth bring to man
We ponder as we stand upon
The remnant of her veil
For soon another Year is gone
Her eye is growing pale
Upon the brink we cannot see
The hand of her successor
But she will follow faithfully
Her silent predecessor
As we, with sentimental tear
Whisper a soft farewell
She slips away, another Year
Where to, no one can tell
Her bosom bears the moments where
We wept our bitter tears
Or uttered our profoundest prayers
Releasing our fears
She carries on her pallid brow
Each kiss, each word, each sigh
For no one can retrieve it now
In her soundless good-bye
With her she takes each tick of time
That formed her every limb
From mortal visage she will climb
Into the shadows dim
Farewell to her grand victory
Farewell to cruel defeat
We hear across the rolling sea
Her echo, bittersweet
Farewell to all her fleeting gain
Farewell to all her sorrow
Never shall we meet again
Its burdens then to borrow
Farewell oh bearer of all things
Our smile, our song, our tear
The rise and fall of temporal kings
With you must disappear
As we, with unrequited dreams
Silently watch you go
Within our eye a new hope gleams
For in her leave we know
A pure untarnished Year doth wait
A glimpse of hope and cheer
And so we linger at the gate
To greet another Year
All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin
Yes, it is a month early...
sometimes I think better
'ahead of Time'
(no pun intended:):)
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!