Merely a passing of time

Saying good-bye to one year for another

no longer means the same as it once did.

I have not yearned for the end of a year

since the year that Lady Love passed.

Nor have I yearned to welcome a New Year

since that same year died… as she did.

To do so would be a rejection of my heart.

No coming year will ever bring

anything resembling

the joy Lady Love brought.

Life goes on,

as it must,

I suppose;

but the luster has lost all its shine.

And though I have

recovered some smiles:

even an occasional laugh.

I now compare

all things to what once was:

wedded bliss,

with the embodiment of love…

and all things

are found wanting.


each New Year in

and Old Year out

to me

are merely a passing of time.


© JW Thomas



My Lady Love…

All years are second-rate without her.


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