Old Father Time took up his scythe, his cloak was worn and grey
his weary limbs rejoice to see, the end of his final day.
His tired old eyes, once bright, but now had grown quite dim
his beard in unkempt strands, fell down the front of him.
He trudged along, a well worn path, of those who’d gone before
not sad to leave this world behind, he wanted it no more.
The time he gave was not well spent, his moments quite abused
Every precious second that he gave, saw them badly used.
We’ll never get them back again, they’ve gone and what a waste
His work on earth was done, and walked off quite disgraced.
The midnight door lay just ahead, and twelve, the clock was striking
his hand upon the handle turned, this world was not his liking
But there before him stood New Year, with a face that’s all aglow
just as he had stood there anxiously, no more than a year ago.
His wrinkled hand reached out to greet, this young bright New Year
a forlorn smile upon his mouth and in his sad old eyes, a tear.
Good luck my friend, the Old Year, said as they momentary met
This world does not deserve the gifts you bring, this is the worst year yet.
The New Year looked up and said, “I have hope within my heart
and one year to make good use of it, before I too must part”.
This New Year has given hope to us, and time to make amends
it’s up to us to use these gifts, on this our lives depends.
Wishing one and all a guid New Year, for health and hope abound
Let’s greet this New Year with a smile, that hope and peace be found.
Agnes M Wilson