posted on Jan, 9 2020 @ 03:27 PM
Lincoln log the croak in frog
Smell of wet dog in a bog,
Sippin' egg nog in the ice fog
Waiting for a gentle snog
...New Year's Eve
Resolute the future's past
Swear not to be an iconoclast
Put cotton balls in my ears and tie me to the mast!
Siren songs far away, echoes fade and chaste
...The Midnight Hour
Swing, sing, the song thing, smiles all around
Rocket's red glare tangled like hair disappears before hitting the ground
Off to the bar, warmth to be found, with quarks all 'round
Familiar sounds: kicking around on a piece of dirt in your hometown
...New Year's Day
And one day closer to death...
We turn, slowly wander away, lurking back towards home...
... Across the field
The tolling on an iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken Magick Spell...
Epilouge: All apologies to Alfred Lord Tenyson for the tilte, James Marshall Hendrix, Sir Francis Scott Key, Robert Burns (allusion to Auld Lang Syne
where most people do not know the words but "swing, sing, the song thing" anyway), James Joyce, and Pink Floyd.
Started about being dressed for the occasion as in, "Lincoln tog, ascott bowed..." but somehow became its own "magic spell" about New Year's Day
as befits a paean to Calliope.
Happy New Year!!