A New Year

A New Year...a new year,
Has slipped into place.
T'is a book to be written,
T'is a bright jeweled vase.

Like a range of high mountains,
In the far...over there.
With peaks turned to heaven,
As if pleading in prayer.

Bright clouds of tomorrow,
Are laid in a riff.
And white wings in motion,
May touch to the cliff.

A making of a memory,
Is sent forth to grow.
While all things of envy,
Are added to woe.

T'is a glorious new promise,
Inviting to see.
A new year...a new year,
Is a time yet to be.


E.P. 1908 - 1989