a poem by William Willis, Scotland

New Year celebrations, there's nostalgia in the air.
Dancing, drinking, singing, people letting down their hair.
With midnight hour upon us, champagne corks they "pop" in time.
A raucous, drunken, joyous crowd, sing out for Auld Lang Syne.

A new-born bonnie baby cries,on the first stroke of the year.
His parents overflowing with love and both do shed a tear.
There are so full of pride, it's their moment,so devine.
They hear the crowd out in the street,as they sing Auld Lang Syne.

Scottish soldier fighting battles, in a land so faraway.
New Year's coming round again, wishes he was home to stay.
He misses wife and kids so much, that words cannot define.
Midnight army piper pipes, the tune to Auld Lang Syne.

Here i sit in silence as i think of year gone by.
I see her empty armchair and i think I'm going to cry.
My true love has been taken and now, all alone i'll dine.
But her presence is still with me, as i sigh to Auld Lang.

So here my love i write this rhyme.
For (the sake) Of Old Times.

Thanks for the Happy Years.

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