“SEVEN BELLS IN THE EVENING WATCH”
Our years have slipped past, silently--
Six decades and a half
Since ‘Fifty-four flung caps in air,
With many a cheer and laugh,
Our numbers, never great at first,
By ones and twos are pared,
Fewer remain, to celebrate
The memories we shared.
We’ll mark a new red-letter day
As sixty-five arrives,
A time for laurel “leaves of gold”,
Most precious in our lives,
From every corner of our land
We’ll meet, and greet, and cheer,
Old tales be told, hearts still as bold
As in that long-past year!
12-22-18
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