New Year’s Wording Ideas with Poems

New Years Poems There are over 1500 poems at Poems for Free, many written for special occasions, which you are free to use for any personal or non-commercial purpose. Please also feel free to modify them (such as changing names, hair or eye color, sex or number) to suit your needs.

All poems: copyright by Nicholas Gordon.

Happiness Depends on More than Years
Happiness depends on more than years.
All one's moments gather to a wave
Passing in a rolling swell of tears,
Passions too immense to name or save.
Yet New Year's is a crest on which to sing,
Now poised between the future and the past.
Each awaits what course the fates may bring,
Winds that never touch the things that last.
Years turn and turn with an hypnotic grace
Even as the depths of life lie still.
Although above one cannot silence face,
Remember that below the divers will.

Happiness Is Something That One Settles for
Happiness is something that one settles for
After the ups and downs of ecstasy.
Perhaps one doesn’t know what one is looking for;
Perhaps one doesn’t realize one is free.
Year’s end is time to tally up the tentacles,
Needing an occasion to take stock.
Everywhere are angels singing canticles
Well beyond the confines of the clock.
Years, no more than seconds, are but moments,
Each eternity again, again.
All live on the wheel of joys and torments,
Returning to the ramparts of the wind.

Happy New Year! To Those Who Will Have None
Happy New Year! To those who will have none,
A wish that knows too well it cannot be.
Perhaps one ought not wish so futilely;
Perhaps one ought, that such not be alone.
Yearning is the price one pays for hope,
Nor can one hope unless one would endure.
Each futile wish makes paradise more sure,
Widening the world's supernal scope.
Yet there are those who find such wishes cheap,
Easy substitutes for sacrifice.
A wish for good is more than merely nice,
Restoring winds that stir the unguent deep.

Harbingers of Happiness, Awake
Harbingers of happiness, awake!
And dreams abandoned, return from restless sleep!
Past hopes, whom bitter wanderers forsake,
Promise once again what will might reap!
Years turn and turn, at each new turn reborn,
New imagined by redeemers new,
Each in turn vouchsafed a festive dawn,
Wind driven towards a sky of darker hue.
Yearning is of innocence a cause,
Embracing with delight what ought to be,
As once a year even truth takes pause,
Reflecting on what other eyes might see.

Hope Is Often Rented by the Year
Hope is often rented by the year.
A ceremony helps ensure the signing.
People like transitions to be clear,
Preferably at moments when they're dining.
Yet as a rental flat can be a home,
No one wants to terminate this lease.
Each thinks hope too poor a risk to own
While needing its bright arc for inner peace.
Years therefore start with hope again renewed
Even as the old year's wishes die.
After all the books have been reviewed,
Ring in the New Year!--with a gentle sigh.

Hours Mean No More or Less than Year
Hours mean no more or less than years.
A moment is a point with no dimension.
People count to undermine their fears,
Persuaded numbers lead to comprehension.
Yet time is an illusion of our motion,
No realer than the rising of the sun.
Each line we draw rests on a restless ocean,
Way, way beyond the scope of more than One.
Years do not begin and never end
Except for purposes of calibration.
A need to share our yearnings, friend to friend,
Requires just one point of celebration.

How Beautiful the Turning of the Year
How beautiful the turning of the year!
A moment artificial yet profound:
Point upon an arbitrary chart
Passing like a breath upon the heart,
Yearning with anticipation wound,
New hope new harbored in old-fashioned cheer.
Even when the boundary line is clear,
We recognize the oneness of the ground.
Years, like circles, do not end or start
Except we lay across their truth our art,
Adjusting dates as they go round and round
Revolving to a tune long sung and dear.

How Sad, the Year Just Passed
How sad, the year just passed! A year the past Arose like smoke from deep beneath the rubble,
Pouring up through fissures in the heart,
Perhaps our own as much as those of others.
Year of hatred writhing in raw pain,
Near mad with certainty arrayed in faith,
Each aggrieved alight with righteous anger,
Whirlwinds swirling through their swathes of rage.
Yet let us in the new year look for justice,
Ever the rock on which to live in peace,
Administered with love for every soul,
Regarding every evil as our own.

Midnight Is a Purely Human Thing
Midnight is a purely human thing
In which a day, a year, a century,
Leaves behind its bloodstained legacy,
Looking to what good the next might bring.
Each of us, this new millennium,
Near midnight will begin to feel the awe,
New wondering what this universe is for,
Immersed in what has been and is to come.
Under midnight's gaze something will end
More beautiful than we can comprehend.

Millennia Are Fairly Common Things
Millennia are fairly common things:
In a billion years are quite a few.
Long or short, their roundness pleasure brings:
Life needs some pretext to begin anew.
Each millennium's a fresh, blank page:
No future ever stretched so fair and far.
Now we wait upon the empty stage
In hopes we'll catch a glimpse of who we are.
Underneath is something vast and free:
Millennia are chains across a sea.

New Year's Falls Just at the Darkest Hours
New Year's falls just at the darkest hours,
Even as the sun lies sick and dying.
When the darkness turns hope starts anew,
Year by year a lesson ever true,
Each of us the bitter cold defying.
All my life I want to be with you,
Restoring year by new year what is ours.

New Years Are a Chance for a Beginning New years are a chance for a beginning
Even when there hasn't been an end.
Wheels turn in an interminable bend,
Yet, marked in one spot, seem to wobble spinning.
Each year we hope to do a little better
Although we know that really nothing's changed.
Reason thinks that everything's arranged,
So we must dream if we would fate unfetter.