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Canto the First

Oh, thou, in Hellas deemed of heavenly birth,
Muse, formed or fabled at the minstrel’s will!
Since shamed full oft by later lyres on earth,
Mine dares not call thee from thy sacred hill:
Yet there I’ve wandered by thy vaunted rill;
Yes! sighed o’er Delphi’s long-deserted shrine
Where, save that feeble fountain, all is still;
Nor mote my shell awake the weary Nine
To grace so plain a tale - this lowly lay of mine.

II.

Whilome in Albion’s isle there dwelt a youth,
Who ne in virtue’s ways did take delight;
But spent his days in riot most uncouth,
And vexed with mirth the drowsy ear of Night.
Ah, me! in sooth he was a shameless wight,
Sore given to revel and ungodly glee;
Few earthly things found favour in his sight
Save concubines and carnal companie,

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poem by Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1818)
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Hamlet: I once did hold it, as our statists do, a baseness to write fair and labour'd much how to forget that learning, but, sir, now it did me yeoman's service.

classic line from Hamlet, Act V, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Added by Dan Costinaş
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A chief petty officer taught me shorthand, which got me promoted to yeoman first class.

quote by Jack Adams
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yeoman service

Woman, be a flower
To emit fragrance.
Woman, be an inflorescence
To display beauty.
Woman, be a honey
To stimulate men
And be not a nutmeg
To betray longing souls.
This is the greatest joy
You can do to mankind.
Woman, grant men access
To have pleasure of your company.
You can do as many
As you can, a yeoman service.
12.10.2005

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Doctor’s Day,2010(acrostic)

Doctors are a noble lot
Often misunderstood, a slot
Caring for the sick and dying
They comfort the anguished and crying
One true noble profession, world envies
Really doing yeoman service
Sacrificing precious time for patients’ sake

Demanding not much in return
Always ready to save lives
Yet, the world seems dissatisfied!
‘Happy Doctor’s Day! ’

Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-1-2010

poem by John Celes
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Heavy wish

On rising Pooram, on Ninth, June,
I wish you a happy birthday.
Let my wish fetch you all fortunes
As did my wish last year,
Which has cast you in many hues,
And this will cast on you all the bliss.
Those studs have stood as a talisman.
Its service to you is Yeoman.
Memories can be forgotten;
But they cannot be rubbed out.
Our relation too.
With that I depart, with heavy heart,
After you left me a year ago.

In feeding the child, mother is warmer.
In wishing you, I am warmer.
09.06.2000, Palakkad
[Pooram is the birth star of her]

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnet: Politics Personified

Fie politics, go wear a whiter shroud!
Your clothes are stained by blood of many men;
No nation seems to be of you quite proud;
Your tongue has lied and falsely signed your pen.

Your hands have been receiving bribes for long;
There is not much reprieve for common man;
All empty promises have been your song;
When will your services become yeoman?

O politics! Refurbish your makeup!
Be transparent, honest and just in life;
With friend corruption, always you go sup;
Money when earned by fraudulence brings strife.

Fie politics! Recount your past blunders;
Before the wrath of God on you thunders.

poem by John Celes
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Sonnet-Be Wise

Our earthly-life is just a passing phase;
The luckiest thing is being born human;
Just transient are the problems that we face;
Lets live our best and do service yeoman.

Yet, pass we all this way just only once;
What luck to be one's kith and kin, kindred!
Our soul could shine then like a hundred Suns,
But only after we are earthly dead.

In this short time, what anxiety we face;
There isn't the time to ask about others;
We find our worldly-life is like a maze,
Where frustrations, our heart and mind smothers.

The worldly-man stays forever but vexed;
The soul-wise man is ready for God's Test.

poem by John Celes
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Life in the woods

Lines on the struggles of the early settlers.

Canada hath wealthy yeoman
Whose fathers overcame the foeman ;
The enemy they boldly slew
Was mighty forest they did hew,
And where they burned heaps of slain
Their sons now reap the golden grain ;
But in the region of North West,
With prairie farms they are blest ;
Though this to them it may seem good
Yet many blessings come from wood.
It shelters you from fierce storm,
And in the winter keeps you warm ;
For one who hath his forest trees
He builds his house and barn with ease,
And how quick he gets from thence
Timber for bridge and for his fence.

poem by James McIntyre
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New Year 2007 Message

Let eyes see things in their right perspectives;
Let ears hear news, without them being changed;
Let hands do service selflessly, yeoman;
Let judgments on others be fair, correct.

Do not be rash with others;
Do not harass your innocent brothers;
Do not be unkind to your weaker sisters, mothers;
Let God guide your actions,
And rule your heart
And mind and soul.

For,
We all must give account to God one day;
We can’t take back a penny anyway;
Better to suffer being righteous than
To live a life of corruption and sin,
And get punished both
By world and
By God.

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poem by John Celes
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