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
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