Kingliness is Next to Kindness

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© by Dahni
2017, all rights reserved

 

Recently we had a long-awaited visit from a Dear friend. Janet has been here to where we are now, but not since we added the addition and remodeled The Gathering Place. She knows that she is welcome here anytime and we have been to see her and have wanted her to visit us for sometime. She works hard and even though it’s only about 7 hours away, it is a bit much to drive, visit and turn-around to go back home in say, a weekend. But Thank God for the 3-Day President’s Day Weekend, for she made it!

Excited and highly anticipating this long-awaited visit, one would think Chef me would have prepared the proverbial “fatted calf” and other culinary delights! Let’s see, what did I actually prepare to celebrate her visit? Oh yes, sandwich meats and cheeses from the deli, store-bought rolls, chips and guacamole dip, both from what the southerner’s call the Piggly Wiggley (yes it is a chain of grocery stores) or jokingly, the Hoggly Woggly. 🙂

Then, one relatively warm night, I took the grill out and grilled some Zweigel brand ‘Hots’ (white hot dogs made out of pork). For desert? I shared Susan’s leftover Valentine’s Day, ‘Death by Chocolate’ cake. I did put some gelato that Susan bought, on their plates. You betcha,’ nothing, but the best for our friends and guests at, The Gathering Place! 🙂

Janet even brought a steak roast (the same cut used for strip steaks) and made dinner for us??? Yes, Yes, she did!!!!

I did apologetic-ly, jokingly, but seriously — splain’ to Janet that the fare at The Gathering Place might be simple, and she may have had to work for her supper (that she provided) or at least, for her room, but the Love and Kindness at The Gathering Place is culinary-ly, an 8* (eight star) establishment! 🙂

When you think about it, after a brief show-off tour of your home, show your friends, family and guests their room, the bathroom and the things they need you provide for their stay, what is really, the most important thing? Isn’t just time spent together no matter what you do? Isn’t it to spend time together; share together the things which are true and that truly matter? And is it not to share, give-and-take kindness with one another? Yes, Yes, Yes, and Yes!!!

Treat everyone like Princesses & Princes; Queens & Kings with kindness, for “there’s nothing more kingly than kindness and nothing more royal than truth!” True that! 🙂

Nothing Better than Love & Kindness
Nothing Better than Love & Kindness

True Measure

By Dahni
© 2017, all rights reserved

It’s not the measure of your wealth, talent and skill,
hungered bellies and hearts that fill,
nor all that’s shiny and new,
but what is honest and what is true,
for far purer than even, a snow-white dove
is simple kindness and perfect love

Years ago, a dear friend of my beautiful young sister gave her a simple metal bracelet. Our sister is still beautiful and young, younger than both, my brother and I, pffft 🙂

Anyway, I loved the words on her bracelet, wrote them down and can still recall them today.

Our young and only sister. The bracelet is on her right arm.
Our young and only sister. The bracelet is on her right arm.

“There’s nothing so kingly as kindness,
And nothing so royal as truth.”

Excerpt from the poem ‘Nobility’
By Alice Cary, 1849

Un-unrequited Love

Un-unrequited Love

(quite requited or reciprocated love)

By Dahni

Un-unrequitedLove
Unrequited love like leaves blowing in the wind

Unrequited Love is almost an oxymoron. My dreams and desires centered around love coming and staying; returning if not greater than what I gave to it, at least equal to it! Yes, I was looking for— “the one!”

Most of us can relate to what many call “first love.” I am happy that some bravely or foolishly endured their choice to continue, despite, “unrequited love!” Going into it and staying to it, despite ‘no return,’ may be brave or foolish, but it certainly has defined who I am and marked me with scar-treasures, that do NOT fade in time nor has memory failed nor have the feelings ever been lost. But surely, there must be a better way??

For me, my situation, my understanding and my beliefs began, for ‘first love,’ when I was 16. I have carried those scar-treasures, for over forty years, through three marriages and who knows how many things and how many others have been affected, perhaps some positively and I’d venture to say, mostly negatively. How wrongfully has my subconscious driven me to trust or not to trust or to judge others, compare others because, they were not her? Forty plus years? That’s a long time to hold onto a fantasy and that’s really what it was!

Like ANY addiction, was I addicted to her or to unrequited love? Unrequited love is like plucking all the petals, hoping for a flower.

Un-unrequitedLove2
wordage’ by Dahni © 2016, all rights reserved

It was only around four years ago that I was finally able to get this resolved. OK, I’m NOT very smart, pretty dang slow, too sensitive, irresponsible, unrealistic or however you would like to define me. I do not regret my scar-treasures. They are mine and they have richly added to my life. But if there was one thing I would have changed is that someone, anyone, could have/would have taught me the relationship between emotions and chemistry (coursing hormones) and sensual stimuli (five senses) and HOW to handle my emotions!

Emotions make a horrible master to reason, but reason without emotions would just be a lifeless life. I might have a reason for something, but would I do it— IF, there was no passion? Can there not be some beautiful balance? Can we not teach our children what to expect and how to handle what will come or is life nothing, but trial and mostly error?

Perhaps this is too much to ask of those that were never taught, HOW to handle their emotions? Would our newly independent youth, fearless and reckless, ever seek advice from those aged mostly by fear and made weak from letting all turn to dust because, we no longer try to move or build? Is it time to do things differently, in pursuit of un-unrequited, requited, reciprocated love?

Oh fear to lose! Oh fear to let go! Oh fear that I will never feel again! Oh, fear to be so forever bound to thy chains and to the sweet poison paralysis of your lips! Oh fear to flee in haste so slowly! Oh fear, forlorn I, for so long to find you comfort in my misery or merely the company that I kept in my misery?

Come ye who love me! Come and teach me self-love, for by it can I love another! Come love and teach me it is no sin to self-neglect, but patience to be full that I may reciprocate! Come let me in self be replete, until love find me and complete! Come love, teach me!

Un-unrequitedLove3
wordage’ by Dahni © 2016, all rights reserved

But until if and when that time arises with dawn in its eyes, I thank God for my scar-treasures! Without Him, they’d just be scar-reminders of pain received and pain caused, for the perceived pleasures of the fleeting moment, that just might still hurt, and could thereby with all its repetition, repeat this through my future! Surely, surely, there is a better way?!

Un-unrequitedLove4
wordage’ by Dahni © 2016, all rights reserved

Oh, love of miracles, Oh, my lover miracle maker, love sought for I’ve never found, but found me— have you! Cannot I change the past and the present is, my gift. And to the future let this my gift be wellness to you maintained or as a wounded healer, to those that need a physician.

Oh, poem this, Oh ye poets! Oh, sing this, Oh ye singers! Oh, love this, Oh ye lovers!

“Train up a child in the way he [or she] should go: and when he [or she] is old, he [or she] will not depart from it.

Proverbs 22:6 King James Version (KJV)

 

From the collection: ‘Sing in the Key of Me’
by the same author
© 2016, all rights reserved

Not Yet

NotYet
Photography by Dahni & TheFlyPhotography.com © 2016, all rights reserved

 

Though clouds cover the setting sun
The Farmer’s work is not yet done
As they both so soon, seem to disappear
Over yonder in the sunrise, there to reappear

 

From the collection: ‘Re-collection’
(the collection of poems by Dahni that never had another name for the collection)
© 2016, all rights reserved

Ode to My Missing Socks

By Dahni

MissingSocks_picture
“Darn it, hurry the heel up, I can’t stand to hear “sock it to me one more time!””

I’m sure they went in the wash, but were missing in the dry
I’ve searched high and low, it made me want to cry
Some say the Sock Monster ate them, but I’ve never seen a one
Or evidence of sockfuzz poop, No there’s never, ever— been none
The ones remaining were lonely, lamenting inside their drawer
Some got mad and I could hear them, yell and scream and roar
What happened to them, could they just never cope?
Was it just the hard water or did they not like the soap?
Oh why, oh why, did they all just suddenly disappear?
Was it an Alien snatch, through the atmosphere?
Was it the Sock Gnome— That took them home?
Or was it tutu attired and hairy,
The twink of the Sock Fairy?
I ran an ad that they’d be found and quickly returned to me

“HELP, Missing Socks, Footloose and Fancy Free”

Well, that didn’t work— I felt like such a jerk
So, I tried to help and made a sign and tried to get them dates

“Single, Clean and Lonely Socks, Looking for New Sole Mates”

Well, not either nor neither did that work, Oh forlorn am I, alas
And every time I walked by their drawer, they tried to kick my ass
I tried to find something useful, for the singles all to do
But they all just stared at me, as if I had no clue
No, they did not take too kindly and they’d all moan and gripe
If ever I wrapped them around, some stupid leaking pipe
I’d turn them into friendly sock puppets and then to my surprise
The next time I saw them, they were missing all their eyes
I’ve tried decorating them, so they’d feel more cool
And every time I did, they just called me a fool
So I’ve learned to sleep with all their complaining and their noise
Stuck in the drawer the single socks— both girls and boys

MissingSocks_profile2
Sock Puppet? Heel No! I’ve got feelings!!
MissingSocks_profile
Sock Bird of Paradise

But long l kept inside my heart, what truly was their missing fates?
Yes, what has befallen, all those missing mates?
Then I noticed, my bank account was overdrawn,
Little by little and for a long time, this went on!
For food and drinks and beachy stuff, the charges read
Oh my conundrum and Oh— the grumbling of anger shed!
Just when I thought they were dead and buried in the sockyard,
Out of the blue and in the mail— a postcard
But adding insult to injury, it was NOT addressed to me
Oh no, it was to all the single socks,

“Footloose and Fancy Free”

It went on to say, “No Worries Be Happy, Will Send for You Soon,”
And now, all my single socks, dance and sing a different tune.
Well, at least now I know— Where the missing socks all go
Some tropical paradise, with cool ocean breeze
Warm sunny rays where nothing will freeze
Lakes and lush and green is the highland
Basking socks on— Missing Sock Island!

MissingSocks_cover
Posted: NO NUDE FEET ALLOWED!
These are the major, missing sock myths: The Sock Gnome, The Sock Alien and The Sock Fairy

from the collection: Sing in the Key of Me
by the same author © 2016, all rights reserved

Good Morning USA

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by Dahni
© 2015, all rights reserved

GoodMornUSA

Good Morning USA,

What’s offending, You today?

 

Is it that these three, barely exist

or that a remnant, still persist?

Is it that WE do NOT know each other

or WE are impatient, for it all to smother?

Is it that WE were ever united

or the fire has been ignited?

 

From 1776 and 1789, for 239 and 226 years respectively

Through hell and back, these three have stood collectively

Are all just separate relics of the past, WE’d just soon forget

Are all meaningless scraps of paper and cloth, We surely and sorely regret?

 

Good Morning USA,

What’s offending, You today?

 

Is it that WE’ve traded, for all our wants and security

or that we deserve NOT— Life, Happiness and Liberty?

 

Good Morning USA,

What’s offending, You today?

GoodMornUSA2

“When the SugarN’s in the Maples”

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by Donnie Hayden

© 2015, all rights reserved

 

“Taps in the trees”

In another post dated October 20, 2014, “Frost on the Punkin,” http://wp.me/p4jGvr-x5, I shared a favorite poem of mine with a video of a feller’ reading it aloud. The poem is, “When the Frost is on the Punkin.”  It was written by, James Whitcomb Riley. 1853–1916.

Recently, after going near stir-crazy from the long winter here in New York, it was a beautiful day, the sky blue, the temperature 41º F. and it was time to get out of the house and take a drive!

The temperature and warm sun upon my ageing (or aging) face made it possible, for me to drive with the window slightly ajar and feel the wind through my thinning hair, but the drive along the shore of Lake Ontario and my expectations, for what was in store, made me feel, forever young! Soon, I would meet my cousin and his grandmother, our dear sweet Aunt Anne Magar (Bab’s) [pronounced: Bob’s], for a pancake breakfast.

It was not just any ordinary pancake breakfast. Oh, NO, this was the last weekend and the last day, of the New York Maple Syrup Festivals, held all over the state. The breakfast was held by and cooked by, the folks that work or own, this maple tree farm. The breakfast with freshly made maple syrup was, at the facility which taps the sugar maples and boils the sap and makes the syrup.

There was a walking tour among the maple trees, to see the pump house where the collected sap is pumped uphill to the process and boiling center.

The center served as working areas, museum, educational center and a store to buy 100% certified, pure NY maple syrup and sugar products. Books and CD’s; DVD’s and other items were available. They even had a maple sugar, cotton candy machine, for the ‘kids’ of all ages. 🙂

The owners and staff were on hand to help and answer any questions, people might pose. I had many and they were more than happy, to answer each and every one, to my satisfaction. I must confess that I was tapped, just like a maple tree and my juices and imagination were flowing. I was intrigued by the whole day and process of making maple syrup and sugar! It made me, briefly, forget about missing my wife, who is out of the country, for another two months. 😦

But this short reprieve from winter and from missing my sweet maple tree girl, made me feel not quite as lonely. I was happy to leave winter’s chill, still clinging here and like a little kid and these trees, I was tapped in! 🙂

SugarN2
Intravenous FeedN’ 🙂

Our cousin was previously given about 11 gallons of sap from this very farm and for days and for the first time, he made some maple syrup himself, boiling the sap in pots outside, on his Bar-B-Q grill. He made several jars of syrup and today, he bought a book from the center called, ‘Backyard Sugarin” I liked the word ‘Sugarin’ and I shortened it to just “sugarN” But I could not get this word out of my head. Thought about it the rest of the day and night. This morning, I woke up with it, still on my mind. It reminded me of Riley’s poem and oft’ quoted line from it, “when the frost is on the punkin.” So, just today, it inspired me to write, “When the SugarN’s in the Maples”

Now, I’m not trying to compete with Riley. I make no pretense that it even comes close to being, even a little bit as good as his! But for me, tired of the long cold winter and missing my wife and can’t wait for Spring, it made me sort of, ‘tap’ into spring and it certainly tapped into me. I think Fall and Spring are my favorites of the four seasons. These two seasons fall between, Winter and Summer or Summer and Winter. Winter can be pretty, but I think it’s mostly here to remind me that Spring is coming and Summer is, just the season to enjoy, while waiting on the Fall. So, I wrote and edited and read it aloud to myself, to hear its flow. Then I called Aunt Bab’s and read it to her. She loved it and asked for a copy and promised to commit it to memory, just as she had, ‘When the Frost in on the Punkin.’ I was honored by her asking and am encouraged here, to share this with you, Oh ye’ gatherers together, gathering at the Gathering Place. 🙂

Years ago, a dear friend’s father gave me a gift of his personally worn, loved, washed and a little over-bleached (kind of tie-dye looking cool) pair of what he called his “Over-hauls.”  These are not just anyO’ pair of overalls. They are the crem dela crem of overalls! Thays’ isN’ ‘Big Smith’ overalls, the finest makers of “over-hauls,” since 1916! Promised made and promise kept. The You Tube video of me reading this poem appears, following the the text below. By the way, my excess winter sap (or sugar) did not allow me to fit into my “over-hauls,” I crammed myself into them! :0

I hope you enjoy, “SugarN’s in the Maples.”  I hope it gets you ‘flowing!’ 🙂

Thank You, James Whitcomb Riley and Thank You, Aunt Bab’s!

 

Donnie

 

 

 

 

 

It’s SugarN’ Time

“When the SugarN’s in the Maples”

Donnie Hayden, 1953presently still alive 🙂

 

When the sugarN’s in the maples and
the taps is in the trees
And you hear the cooN morN doves
a crying in the breeze
And the peeping of the sparrows and the honkN of the geese
And the warmN’s in the morN’
in her rising in the east
O, it’s them’s the times a feller is a—
putN’ on a smile,
And leaves his hibernated cave
and gits outside a while,
And grabs his hat and forgets his achy knees,
When the sugarN’s in the maples and the
taps is in the trees
 
There’s something kinda’ hearty-like
tho wintern hangs on here—
When the nights still chill, but morN’s warm, surely Spring will be so dear—
Of course the grass aint yet green, and no flowers in the bloom
And the gentle rains not yet revealN 
what underground’s concealN’
and the robins not yet expected,
but the worms don’t feel neglected
But still, there’s that sweet fragrance in the air,
when sap pots a’boilN’, here and there
Sets my forget of my achy knees
When the sugarN’s in the maples and the
taps is in the trees
 
The whole scene sets my heart a jumpN’
like the sap a runN and the roots, for water pumpN
Not time for plantN or growN’, but tahday—
Spring’s got no better preacher
than what the maples have to say
 
Cows still relyN on the farmer’s bales
and the tractor’s in the barn
and they’re dreaming over coffee
and they’re fitN another yarn
O, it sets spring’s clock—
to ease
When the sugarN’s in the maples and the
taps is in the trees
 
Then you know the sap is gathered, 
and the syrup is all made
And the taste buds cry—  “keep it coming” 
and winter’s soon to fade
And your pancakes and sugarN delights 
and all the maple sweets
makes yor’ giddy face a familiar friend 
to all the strangers it meets
I know no betterN a way to tell it— 
but if such a thing could be
If anyone or spring or angels need boardin’, and if they were to call on me
I’d hand them all over my accommodations and my keys
When the sugarN’s in the maples and the
taps is in the trees
 
Archive Note:

This post preserves the first public appearance of When the Sugar’s In the Maples, including the author’s reading.

It is archived here as a seasonal record and witness.
The poem may later appear in other formats or collections.

 

A grown-up lay me down to sleep

by Dahni

© 2015, all rights reserved

(an anticipatory participatory prayer)

 

AdultLayMeDown2Sleep

Now I lay me down to sleep

I thank you Lord, for the sweet memories I keep

and if I should pass, before I wake

please give them to my loves –

for them to take

 

God Bless,

(your memory list goes here)

 

Amen

AdultLayMeDown2Sleep2

A Toast to Life

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By Dahni
© 2015, all rights reserved

 

A Toast to you on St. Patty’s Day:

May your every need, be ever met
And your heart, always full
And all the best that’s yet to come,
May it be your crowning jewel
May love and hope ever find you,
sharing these two, with all you meet
And this, ever circling
will never find complete!

The Gathering Place

Your Friends and family on the road of Life

Toast Life

 

 

The Robin Report

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by Dahni
© 2015, all rights reserved

 RobinReport1

The American Robin is, a more sure harbinger and prognosticator of spring, than Punxsutawney Phil the ground hog, could ever be, in his or her, wildest dreams.

Robins are actually, part of the family of thrushes. They received their familiar name from homesick European settlers in the United States, many years ago. They were reminded of their beloved and familiar little Robin Red-breast, which has a color pattern brighter, but somewhat similar to our robin, even though the two are, not closely related.

Years ago, there was a median strip between our home (then) and our neighbor’s property. In the middle of this strip of land was a Hawthorne tree with long and potentially hurtful thorns. Trust me they hurt, having been pricked by them, more than a few times. The berries are bright red orange and often stay on the tree throughout the winter. The reason for this is quite simple. Their berries are not considered to be, culinary fowl fare or bird yum yums. 🙂

Most wintering critters and birds don’t care for them, that is, until one snowy wintry, February morning. I happened to look outside our bedroom window and right below in this Hawthorne tree was, at least a hundred robins. In about a half an hour, they picked the tree clean. There was not a single berry left. I was astounded!

I had never seen so many robins before and I did not know they would group like this. So, I did some research.

I suppose, I never really thought about where robins go in the winter? I guess I never entertained the idea that they migrate, but they do. Curiously, first of all, some, for some unknown reason, will winter farther up north in Canada (We live in NY). But others, will migrate thousands of miles, from Vancouver Island to as far south as, Guatemala. Some will just hang around where they are.

Robins are of only, just a few type of birds that change their diet. They will eat nuts, seeds and berries (even those nasty Hawthorne berries), insects and grubs and their favorite delicacy, earthworms. Obviously in February, it was still a little cold for earthworms. But the interesting thing I have come to understand about the robins I saw in February is, they were all male. The males return before their females to begin building their nests, scoping out new or defending their territory. And how do they defend their turf – by singing, sometimes fighting, but a good song seems to be, what works best, most of the time.

After the male robins first appear, the spring rains begin soon thereafter. When the grounds become saturated, the earthworms come up for air. From the time the males show up and the rains fall is, around two weeks. Right on cue, about two weeks after the males, the females arrive hungry from the long flight and earth worms are easy to find. Contrary to what I thought and perhaps many others as well, robins do NOT hear the earthworms underground, they see them on the top of the waterlogged soil. I know, we’ve all seem them pecking on the ground when it looks like there’s nothing there, don’t they really hear the worms? Just remember, their eyesight is far superior to ours. They can see the smallest movement of leaves and earth and KNOW, something alive is moving!

So dear friends and family of, The Gathering Place, robins are, the sure sign that spring has sprung! 🙂

 Robin song mp3 on SoundCloud (may not work on Apple devices)

 

YouTubeIcon32X32Robin Song on YouTube

 

 

The following poem which inspired by these robins was, posted on another one of my blogs at: Dahni Daily, Februrary, 21, 2010. It was written right around the time the robins first appeared in the Hawthorne tree. They did come back the next year, but only around 30. That was the last time I saw them in such numbers or in that tree. We moved to where we live now at: The Gathering Place. But we still see robins here. I can’t wait to see them soon and report that spring here, has definitely arrived! I hope you enjoy the following poem.

A Sure Sign

By Dahni, © 2010, all rights reserved

The Hawthorne berry bright red

Seemingly an attractive fruit,

But most unsavory,

For they last the whole of winter,

Undisturbed and uneaten.

A robin one or two or few,

A sure sign of spring,

Though long after the snows melt,

And the rains come,

And the worms surface.

Two years ago, about a week,

Before the end of February,

Hundreds of robins picked the Hawthorne clean,

In minutes,

Their migratory mates followed two weeks later,

And brought spring with them.

Today, about a week,

Before the end of February,

Many robins sat in the Hawthorne;

My heart was lightened,

Though snow still upon the ground,

And in the air,

Surely their mates are on the way,

And bringing with them,

Spring.

From the collection: ‘As it Happened – Collections of Recollections, by the same author
Short url to this post: http://wp.me/pc5BC-39

 RobinReport2

 So, what is, your robin report? Are they where you are yet? Is it spring where you are yet?

Auld Lang Syne

AulLangSyne1

 

Among the many traditions that come with ringing in the new year, the singing of “Auld Lange Syne” has become a custom of almost every gathering at midnight of New Year’s Eve. But what do these words mean?

“Auld Lange Syne” was originally a  poem written by Scotland’s favourite poet, Robert Burns in 1788. It was eventually set to the tune of a traditional folk song. The title of the Scottish tune translates to “times gone by” and is about remembering friends from the past and not letting them be forgotten.

Now, at the conclusion of almost every New Year’s celebration, partygoers join hands with the person next to them to form a great circle around the dance floor. At the beginning of the last verse, everyone crosses their arms across their breast, so that the right hand reaches out to the neighbor on the left and vice versa.

I chose the Youtube video (presented below) with Susan Boyle because, I just love her soothing voice, her love for singing, the emotion she projects; I love her heart and simplicity and she was, born in, Blackburn, West Lothian, Scotland.

 

Susan Boyle, album ‘The Gift’ – Auld Lang Syne

 

Auld Lang Syne 

 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And auld lang syne

Chorus:

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne

And surely ye’ll be your pint stowp
And surely I’ll me mine
And we’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne

Chorus:

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne

We twa hae run about the braes
An pou’d the gowans fine
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fitt
Sin’ auld lang syne

Chorus:

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne

 

 

Auld Lang Syne

(modern English translation)

 

Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And days of long ago!

Chorus:

For times gone by, my dear
For times gone by,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by.

We two have run about the hillsides
And pulled the daisies fine,
But we have wandered many a weary foot
For times gone by.

Chorus:

For times gone by, my dear
For times gone by,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by.

We two have paddled (waded) in the stream
From noon until dinner time,
But seas between us broad have roared
Since times gone by.

Chorus:

For times gone by, my dear
For times gone by,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by.

And there is a hand, my trusty friend,
And give us a hand of yours,
And we will take a goodwill drink (of ale)
For times gone by!

Chorus:

For times gone by, my dear
For times gone by,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by.

And surely you will pay for your pint,
And surely I will pay for mine!
And we will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by

Chorus:
For times gone by, my dear
For times gone by,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by.

AuldLangSyne2

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!  🙂

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