Poet's Soliloquy
Flying in fancy's wayward balloon
We borrow rhymes from moon
Wordsmiths as we are
And twinkle afar like a star
Though our poems have no defined goal
They offer solace to human soul
Like newspapers our writeups
Do not turn stale the next day
For they are meant longer to stay
Our mark we make on eternity
And our strength is not length
But brevity.
Time cannot at us laugh
For we are makers of epitaph
Our obituary marks end of an epoch
And our fame is founded on rock
Nandlal Kanjibhai Pancholi
Copyright ©2005 Nandlal Kanjibhai Pancholi
Copyright © Nandlal Pancholi | Year Posted 2005
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