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A Torchbearer

Great cities rise and have their fall; the brass
That held their glories moulders in its turn.
Hard granite rots like an uprooted weed,
And ever on the palimpsest of earth
Impatient Time rubs out the word he writ.
But one thing makes the years its pedestal,
Springs from the ashes of its pyre, and claps
A skyward wing above its epitaph—
The will of man willing immortal things.

The ages are but baubles hung upon
The thread of some strong lives—and one slight wrist
May lift a century above the dust;
For Time,
The Sisyphean load of little lives,
Becomes the globe and sceptre of the great.
But who are these that, linking hand in hand,
Transmit across the twilight waste of years
The flying brightness of a kindled hour?
Not always, nor alone, the lives that search

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poem by Edith Wharton
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The Torch-Bearer

GREAT cities rise and have their fall; the brass
That held their glories moulders in its turn.
Hard granite rots like an uprooted weed,
And ever on the palimpsest of earth
Impatient Time rubs out the word he writ.
But one thing makes the years its pedestal,
Springs from the ashes of its pyre, and claps
A skyward wing above its epitaph--
The will of man willing immortal things.

The ages are but baubles hung upon
The thread of some strong lives--and one slight wrist
May lift a century above the dust;
For Time,
The Sisyphean load of little lives,
Becomes the globe and sceptre of the great.
But who are these that, linking hand in hand,
Transmit across the twilight waste of years
The flying brightness of a kindled hour?
Not always, nor alone, the lives that search

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poem by Edith Wharton
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A long marathon

I am participating in long marathon
It was decided and desired to be won
Not a loose attempt was to be made
Though there was strict criteria laid

Many more may find it enterprising
It was not at all sudden or surprising
Every time it brought certain level of perfection
The media is so powerful and integrated section

Two hundred long poems in stipulated period
So many things to be taken care off and avoid
All ways time bound action and strict adherence
It was nightmare with very good reference

I am quite used to such a long poems
There has to be strong and very good themes
Not always you get the set ideas of current nature
Still it is perfectly suiting to the future

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Lines in Praise of Professor Blackie

Alas! the people's hearts are now full of sorrow
For the deceased Professor Blackie, of Edinboro';
Because he was a Christian man, affable and kind,
And his equal in charitable actions would be hard to find

'Twas in the year of 1895, March the 2nd, he died at 10 o'clock.
Which to his dear wife, and his adopted son, was a great shock;
And before he died he bade farewell to his adopted son and wife.
Which, no doubt, they will remember during life.

Professor Blackie celebrated his golden wedding three years ago,
When he was made the recipient of respect from high and low.
He leaves a widow, but, fortunately, no family,
Which will cause Mrs. Blackie to feel less unhappy.

Professor Blackie will be greatly missed in Edinboro;
Especially those that met him daily will feel great sorrow,
When they think of his never-failing plaid and hazel rung,
For, although he was an old man, he considered he was young.

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poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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The Burial of the Reverend Gilfillan

On the Gilfillan burial day,
In the Hill o' Balgay,
It was a most solemn sight to see,
Not fewer than thirty thousand people assembled in Dundee,
All watching the funeral procession of Gilfillan that day,
That death had suddenly taken away,
And was going to be buried in the Hill o' Balgay.

There were about three thousand people in the procession alone,
And many were shedding tears, and several did moan,
And their bosoms heaved with pain,
Because they knew they would never look upon his like again.

There could not be fewer than fifty carriages in the procession that day,
And gentlemen in some of them that had come from far away,
And in whispers some of them did say,
As the hearse bore the precious corpse away,
Along the Nethergate that day.

I'm sure he will be greatly missed by the poor,

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poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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A Vision Of Resurrection

I had a dream. The habitable earth
Its continents and islands, all were bare
Of cities and of forests. Naught remained
Of its old aspect, and I only knew
(As men know things in dreams, unknowing how)
That this was earth and that all men were dead.
On every side I saw the barren land,
Even to the distant sky's inclosing blue,
Thick-pitted all with graves; and all the graves
Save one were open-not as newly dug,
But rather as by some internal force
Riven for egress. Tombs of stone were split
And wide agape, and in their iron decay
The massive mausoleums stood in halves.
With mildewed linen all the ground was white.
Discarded shrouds upon memorial stones
Hung without motion in the soulless air.
While greatly marveling how this should be
I heard, or fancied that I heard, a voice,
Low like an angel's, delicately strong,

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poem by Ambrose Bierce
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A love and affection

Love and affection has tremendous strength
Meet the target on same wave length
So much joy to lead or to be led
To achieve the goal and never feel sad

Millions have learnt and changed course
Any layman can learn and change concourse
Only one good impetus and see the result
Deep sorrow and downfall with only one insult

Love is not confined to physical relation
It is humanly behavior with good indication
It can alter the destiny of a person
It is backed by many examples and reasons

It has always influenced the mankind
It shown the way even to the blind
No one has dared to defy the true love
They have always gained when drove back

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Pose a question

She stared at my eyes as if to pose a question?
I could see anxiety on her face but found no mention
She looked worry ridden and closed eyes with tension
I could sense some urgency in her for submission

I was her long associate on the web site
She may come often on line and apprise
She was not renowned writer but talented one
Her ideas flowed with situation and run

I told her about my future plan to visit her country
She prompted me by saying why I preferred entry?
There were plenty or countries with fine landscapes
Why that has not struck me in mind and escaped?

She wanted to know exact reason behind my trip
I took care not to mention correctly without tongue slip
She expressed her inability to offer me any hospitality
As she was very poor and lacked basic amenity

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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When I am alone

You were not there when needed
You had promised me when we wedded
That you will stand by me when I am alone
Even let that be heavy wind, cruel rain or cyclone

Before we decided to go ahead with married life
You had carefully chosen the role of wife
You had also whispered in my ears
That you shall be true companion for years

How greatly I felt about those sweet words?
They were like lubricant covered on sword
Life was known to be a weapon with double edge
Not all was to be moving right with so many pledges

It was circumstantial embracement totally unknown
You were never in angry mood with face dark and swollen
Something was eating you from within and totally unnoticed
You were loosing temper easily and totally antagonized

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A perfect dance

She danced to her full vigor
She seemed to be in her youth but not minor
It looked as if it was not her profession
I was dance lover and had very good obsession

Stage performances are considered as live art
Your feet may jump and dance with the start
It is really an innovation that makes you energetic
It is good step and always considered as pragmatic

What music and dance has to do in our daily life?
It may provide tonic in war torn strife
It works as magic for isolated world
Relation also turns warm from deep cold

I looked passionately at her every movement
It was bent with elastic quality for the moment
Everybody gazed at her with almost surprise
It made all to praise, move from chair and rise

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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