A New Year's Poem

This is the final poem of the year,
a thread that leads into my memory, stored
full of twelve months of happiness and tears.

Of thoughts of friends and family most dear
who helped me through the trials I endured
until the final poem of the year.

Now January first comes treading near,
and turns the calendar, a swinging door
into twelve months of happiness and tears.

Though no-one knows where we may go from here
one thing at least, I'll tell you now for sure--
this is the final poem of the year.

The future's full of unknown hopes and fears
but now let's drink the glasses we have poured
full of twelve months of happiness and tears.

There will be poems yet (oh, have no fear)
if God still wills that I should write some more,
but this is the final poem of the year,
full of twelve months of happiness and tears.