On Hogmanay I’ll be alone

Surrounded by my kin,

Who, from their places on the walls

Will bring the New Year in.

Up there with many other friends,

Who made my happy life,

There is the loveliest of all

My Marge. My darling wife.

These walls which once each Hogmanay

Absorbed both tears and love,

Are steeped in memories and joy

From floor to roof above.

But now, alone, from where I sit

I see revived again,

Life from those faces, in the frames,

As I had done so then.

Pity me not, on Hogmanay;

As old and by myself.

There’s treasures in, and on the walls

More valuable than wealth.

And in those faces, smiling now,

My vision bringing close

There is the one I love the most,

My Darling English Rose.

As faces on the walls grow dim

With New Year’s ringing in;

I shall see only Dearest Marge

And love that’s held within

The hearts that once both beat in tune,

As did when first we met,

To beat and throb and beat again

As strong as ever, yet.

And as I sit, as I do now

Awaiting Hogmanay.

I see the pictures on the walls

As I do e’vry day.

So, Hear me now! I’m not alone;

There in my Treasure Chest,

A Treasure Trove of friends and kin

With Margie now at rest.

Then after Hogmanay is past

The future year unknown

There, ever in my Treasure Chest,

Are Mem’ries all my own.

Where into which my mind shall dip,

As love within my breast,

Seeks those of Marge,My Margie Dear,

My Marge. The Loveliest

Christie Herkes Grahame 30.12.2007