“Auld Lang Syne” - the most-sung New Year's Eve song

Courtesy Robert Burns

circa (25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796)

the National Bard,

Bard of Ayrshire

and the Ploughman Poet.

Two hundred sixty one orbitz elapsed

since brief existence of aforementioned

Scottish poet and lyricist graced Earth,

yet his legacy unwittingly still

enshrined, regaled, warbled...

upon cusp of New Year's Eve,

when revelers sing familiar words

getting misty eyed about

times long past, yet without doubt.

Courtesy Geordie composer William Shield

5 March 1748 – 25 January 1829,

an English composer, violinist and violist

contemporaneous with former

credited with writing music

linkedin with aforementioned tune

posthumous popularity doth wield.

Covid-19 pandemic that

swept across human lot

decrees loved ones untimely

passing, a poignant jot

upon surviving kith and kin

necessitates apropos bon mot

to allow, enable and provide

succor yada yada yada

loosening Gordian knot

constricting one groveling,

muttering, and sniveling snot.

Convenient heft of New

Year's eve lends clout

any other month date day

one could more easily flout

generally speaking/writing

vouchsafing making resolutions

not agreeable with lout

spinning forth verses

as he moseys along

figurative groovy route.

Abstract notion delineating, indicating,

plotting, and zoning passage of time

extremely elusive to grasp at least

for purposes of reasonable poetic soupy rhyme

nevertheless civilizations far and wide

codifying, formulating, identifying

lapsing seconds, minutes, hours,

days, months, years... constituting

artificial construct paradigm

watching, validating, tabulating,

recording, pendulum swinging tick tock

while days of our lives

segues from day into nighttime

as the world (wide web) turns.

Now join in and sing if not averse

despite damning series

(I tip hat to Lemony Snicket)

of unfortunate events, a curse

hundreds of years ago

witnessed by countless

many horse drawn hearse

when "bring out your dead"

what fate could be worse?

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

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For days of auld lang syne

We twa hae run about the braes

And pu'd the gowans fine
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit
Sin days of auld lang syne

We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn
Frae morning sun till dine
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin days of auld lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For days of auld lang syne

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp
And surely I'll be mine
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere
And gie's a hand o' thine
And we'll tak a right gude-willy waught

For auld lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne.