As it has been written, our planet has rolled on its sublime course.

Terry TrainorStarred Page By Terry Trainor, 17th Dec 2014 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Poetry

As it has been written, our planet has rolled on its sublime course, and has brought the year and our task to their last moments. Soon another circle of the seasons will have been completed, adding one more to the years of the past and stamping on myriads of human creatures another sum of the irrevocable.

The startling and the affecting,

As the year comes to the end the pencil of time has been busy marking down the tragic and the comic, the startling and the affecting,
It is over a host of the most extraordinary things that the year is closing, some say good riddance and maybe a few shed some tears,
All those circumstances and occurrences that surround all manner of human life, the births of our children, the deaths of our parents,
The marriages and removals to distant climes of our friends, have agitated the current of the year that has gone and never to return again.

New philosophies and new hope.

In one dwelling there is laughter, another profoundest grief, through the world has held its august course in the heart that not all has been in vain,
The wassail bowl adorned with ribands and gilded apples carried from house to house by our Saxon ancestors, young maidens sang a wassail song,
Happy are they who are prepared to solemnize this ancient custom with great and beautiful sentiment in the footsteps of our forefathers,
To leave all the animosities of the past to perish with the past and begin a new year with new hearts, new friends, new philosophies and new hope.

The new winding roads of time,

In a short time another circle of the seasons will have been completed, adding one more year that will dissolve like a swirling mist into our past,
But in the next moment the great spirit of the future, the presentiment of good, that paves all the mysterious way with startling, renewed alacrity,
This enters into us and we are no longer repiners, as over the past, but are aspirants for the exhaustless future, the new winding roads of time,
We feel within us the grasp of immortal nature, the power of the unstoppable, and knowing such power is evident, we can’t predict anything.

In that feeling be our closing lay of the year.

And so passes Christmas with its holly and kissing bushes and waites, and Christmas boxes, now cast aside for it is all now over and gone,
The roast beef, plum pudding, ghost story telling and mince pies, for those who can afford them, and those who cannot there comes a new year,
Thus we come however happy or unhappy, prosperous or unprosperous, to the end of the month and of our year hoping the next will be much kinder,
For in that is included hope, hope of better times, of more balmy seasons and of immortality a godlike gift to all men across the world.

In that feeling be our closing lay of the year.

Photographs from London and the Seven Dials, permission for use granted by Author.

moderator Steve Kinsman moderated this page.
If you have any complaints about this content, please let us know


author avatar cnwriter..carolina
17th Dec 2014 (#)

wonderful wonderful and again wonderful...all here...
funnily enough am just about to write a piece on destruction of you Terry...

Reply to this comment

author avatar Terry Trainor
17th Dec 2014 (#)

Thanks CN.

Reply to this comment

author avatar Sivaramakrishnan A
18th Dec 2014 (#)

We find it tough to let go the hurts of the past though we can create a better future based on learning from our mistakes.Let us also have the wisdom for an inclusive ride that will make it more pleasurable for all. Thanks Terry for your musings - siva

Reply to this comment

author avatar Terry Trainor
19th Dec 2014 (#)

Thank you my friend

Reply to this comment

Add a comment
Can't login?