To the Old Year...

We have wept your laughter-tears

And slept on tears of woe

And now, like all the other years

Away, away you flow

Into your tide we shed our dream

And bled our aching pen

The silence of your subtle stream

Is mightier than men

Yet still we wish upon your star

And pray the Lord to keep

Our loved ones whether near or far

As to yon brink you sweep

Then, as you fall away, away

To Past’s eternal home

A New Year fills its gold and gray
With what is yet to come
 

© Janet Martin