Passing Silence

The old year slips into its silver silence.
Within our hearts we whisper our good byes.
For it has held some treasure for us all.
Some tears, bright hope, gay laughter, or a sigh.
Life cannot produce its lovely flowers,
With only fair and cloudless skies above.
It must be intermixed with the sun and showers,
As sorrow often is alloyed with love.
So softly close the door of this past year
It cannot ever open once again,
And let a smile dispel your parting tear;
As the rainbow shine across depressing rainy skies
The heart will long remember these lost hours
Lift up your eyes to greet the coming morn,
Though precious are our memories,
like pressed flowers in the pages of a forgotten book.
This New Year has come with hope, faith and songs. . .

Feb 17/95