Poems

Year’s End

Year’s End Poem

New Year Poem
289

Year’s End Lyrics, New Years Day is a special day, A year has gone and a new fresh year is starting with song and dance. It is said, and rightly so, that each new year gives one 12 new chapters and 365 more chances. “Tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365 page book. Write a good one.” – Brad Paisley. This quote is extremely meaningful for the new year. Stepping inYear’s End, one must also be thankful for all the people who are a part of life.

Family and friends constitute an important part of our lives and having them by our side is a true blessings. However, apart from friends and family, someone who is a huge part of one’s lives are our life partners. They are the people who stand by us through thick and thin and shower us with love and care, sometimes unconditionally.

Forgive the people who may have hurt you, let go of some people and start 2019 on a bright and fresh note as there should be no room for hate in the new year. Also, remember to pamper yourself in 2019 with a new hobby or a solo trip or a spa session. Remember to make a new year resolution because what’s the fun of celebrating new year if there are no resolutions – some to keep and some to break by mid-January, right?

Year’s End

Now iciness downs the dying of the 12 months,
And night time is all a settlement of snow;
From the tender street the rooms of houses show
A accrued mild, a sharpen ecosystem,
Like frozen-over lakes whose ice is skinny
And nevertheless allows some stirring down within.
I’ve acknowledged the wind by way of water banks to shake
The overdue leaves down, which frozen where they fell
And held in ice as dancers in a spell
Fluttered all iciness lengthy into a lake;
Graved on the dark in gestures of descent,
They appeared their personal most ideal monument.
there has been perfection in the death of ferns
Which laid their fragile cheeks in opposition to the stone
1,000,000 years. remarkable mammoths overthrown
Composedly have made their long sojourns,
Like palaces of persistence, inside the grey
And changeless lands of ice. And at Pompeii
The little canine lay curled and did now not upward thrust
but slept the deeper as the ashes rose
And found the humans incomplete, and iced up
The random palms, the unfastened unready eyes
of men looking ahead to but any other solar
To do the shapely issue they’d not completed.
those unexpected ends of time should supply us pause.
We fray into the future, not often wrought
shop inside the tapestries of afterthought.
greater time, extra time. Barrages of applause
Come muffled from a buried radio.
the new-yr bells are wrangling with the snow.

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