The Poetry Garden

With the late commencement of cerebral dawn When by chance I strolled in the literary garden A veritable store-house of priceless gems strewn Threw up joys, exclusive; never to be forgotten. There one finds precious jewels of craftsmanship By the artisans the likes of whom hard to find Beginning with the Bard of Avon; the dramatist Who have enriched us with great literary pearls. There I meet Blake with his ‘Songs of Innocence’ And Chaucer reading from ‘The Canterbury Tales’ Coleridge humming ‘the Rime of the Ancient Mariner’ With Eliot the great, standing on ‘The Waste Land’. Goldsmith hailing from ‘The deserted Village’ and Gray reciting his elegy in a ‘Country Churchyard’ Hardy, Holmer, Dante with gentle Longfellow next Bless me with hymns from the ‘The Psalm of Life’. The great Keats with his immortal Odes; sublime Milton makes me see beyond vividly in ‘Blindness’ Shelley singing sweetly along with ‘The Skylark’ I join ‘The charge of light brigade’ with Tennyson. When I am gloomy and not knowing what to do Henry Newman cheers me with ‘Lead kindly light’ And I derive great solace with my mind relaxing As I recite the verses from the ‘Song Offerings’. With Wordsworth I stand on the ‘Westminster Bridge’ And enjoy the unforgettable sight of ‘Daffodils’ lovely As I enter this garden beautiful, I spurn ideas quitting it Unmindful of all my worries, I ever remain glued to it.