on the futility of words to describe my love and the merits of humming auld lang syne

(to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne")

nonsense on a napkin
stained with rings of wine
calling on my wandering heart
it's off in another time

in the silence of the dancers
another rhyme falls
in the deafening din of answers
i hear my heart, it calls

it calls the name of my dear
who slides across the room
i look at her and it's so clear
my poems are for the moon

another year has come my dear
each one faster than the last
smaller grows my future- dear
and larger grows my past

but our love is like a seed my dear
planted in the sky
and it wont be fully grown my dear
until the end of time

so put your arm around me dear
and when the midnight rings
put your lips to mine my dear
i'll hum when my heart sings.