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I say'no

I would say “I don’t know”
For any of the science or computer query “no”
They will look at my face and pose another question
I will call them near and peacefully mention

The world has moved very fast
The children have no end to last
You can’t answer to their questions
As we are ignorant about its solutions

We were confined to simple mathematics
There was no word like advance statistics
Algebra and trigonometry were totally new subjects
Life was suddenly changing very fast in fact

Russians had just put a sputnik in the space
There after started the real competition or race
Some of the subjects were added in syllabus
There after it was new adventure in science after Columbus

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Way of Wooing

A maiden sat at her window wide,
Pretty enough for a Prince's bride,
Yet nobody came to claim her.
She sat like a beautiful picture there,
With pretty bluebells and roses fair,
And jasmine-leaves to frame her.
And why she sat there nobody knows;
But this she sang as she plucked a rose,
The leaves around her strewing:
"I've time to lose and power to choose;
'T is not so much the gallant who woos,
But the gallant's WAY of wooing!"

A lover came riding by awhile,
A wealthy lover was he, whose smile
Some maids would value greatly -
A formal lover, who bowed and bent,
With many a high-flown compliment,
And cold demeanour stately,
"You've still," said she to her suitor stern,

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poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Mary-Jess (Singer)

A remarkable singer, by the name of Mary-Jess,
Stands on stage, in a gorgeous, flowing dress.
She opens her mouth and her singing is sweet.
To hear her sing her songs live is truly a treat.

She waves her arms as though she’s freely floating.
She’s a new artiste who’s definitely worth noting.
About her, the critics have only good things to say,
And it’s already clear that she’s going to go a long way.

Her music sounds distinctly oriental,
But her interpretation of it is pure and gentle.
Charmingly pretty with a fresh-faced complexion,
With an audience, she’s able to make a real connection.

With her new album just released,
Her popularity has greatly increased.
To be a singer, has always been her dream,
But her journey hasn’t been as easy as it seems.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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Watching Her Walk

Her presence moves
frail bent, head down
with a bow-strung gait
eyes fixed to pavement

Stopping, darting eyes
see something bothersome
a crack; a cautious step
moves her forward again

At first, heads turned
eyebrows cocked, curiously
watching her walk
watching that walk

A respectful 'hello Mary'
is usually heard
aging fast each year
less attentive
forgetful, slow

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poem by George Vuyakovich
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Lenexa Baptist Church = Thanksgiving Prayer & A Good Woman’s Love

THANKSGIVING PRAYER

When the weather turns cooler and nature’s colors change
The landscape reminds us God is in control.
As family and friends gather to feast on turkey
The calories we consume take their toll.

For those of us who follow Christ as our Savior
Giving thanks should be our daily prayer.
Each morning as we rise to face the new day
And at bedtime to express the love we share.

We should thank God for Christ’s death and resurrection
For the beauty and wonderment of His love.
For our own delivery from the powers of sin
To God’s glorious blessings of purpose from above.

Always remember by prayer we’re never truly alone
God is aware of all we must overcome, fear and endure.

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poem by Tom Zart
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In Upper San Francisco

I heard that Heaven was bright and fair,
And politicians dwelt not there.

'Twas said by knowing ones that they
Were in the Elsewhere-so to say.

So, waking from my last long sleep,
I took my place among the sheep.

I passed the gate-Saint Peter eyed
Me sharply as I stepped inside.

He thought, as afterward I learned,
That I was Chris, the Unreturned.

The new Jerusalem-ah me,
It was a sorry sight to see!

The mansions of the blest were there,
And mostly they were fine and fair;

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poem by Ambrose Bierce
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God Viewed As Exclusive Property

Many people
seem to believe
that God is

the exclusive property

of only
their religion
their denomination

their exclusive property.

But is this true?

How do we test
this mindset
discrimination?

“And God loved the world so much

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Lenexa Baptist Church = ' Thanksgiving Prayer & A Good Woman's Love

' THANKSGIVING PRAYER & A GOOD WOMAN'S LOVE '

When the weather turns cooler and nature’s colors change
The landscape reminds us God is in control.
As family and friends gather to feast on turkey
The calories we consume take their toll.

For those of us who follow Christ as our Savior
Giving thanks should be our daily prayer.
Each morning as we rise to face the new day
And at bedtime to express the love we share.

We should thank God for Christ’s death and resurrection
For the beauty and wonderment of His love.
For our own delivery from the powers of sin
To God’s glorious blessings of purpose from above.

Always remember by prayer we’re never truly alone
God is aware of all we must overcome, fear and endure.
When we live to serve Him and follow His word

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poem by Tom Zart
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To My Bride (Whoever She May Be)

Oh! little maid! - (I do not know your name
Or who you are, so, as a safe precaution
I'll add) - Oh, buxom widow! married dame!
(As one of these must be your present portion)
Listen, while I unveil prophetic lore for you,
And sing the fate that Fortune has in store for you.

You'll marry soon - within a year or twain -
A bachelor of CIRCA two and thirty:
Tall, gentlemanly, but extremely plain,
And when you're intimate, you'll call him "BERTIE."
Neat - dresses well; his temper has been classified
As hasty; but he's very quickly pacified.

You'll find him working mildly at the Bar,
After a touch at two or three professions,
From easy affluence extremely far,
A brief or two on Circuit - "soup" at Sessions;
A pound or two from whist and backing horses,
And, say three hundred from his own resources.

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poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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My Babe Sister - Massacre

My name is Pooja
I am eight years old
I have a sister
Her name was Yogita
And she was four years old

Our papa always angry
He screams and he yells
I don’t think he be fond of us
It's painless to enlighten

Mom only lovability
When papa is not around
And when he is home
She hardly create no sound

Mom always out
By no means she is at home
Papa always under the influence,
And at all times alone

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poem by Ezna Stephna
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