Amar Agarwala

My hollowed casket is empty
Awaiting a withered shell,
My wooden lid is askance
...

I
No song I have my blessed child
No thoughts which could bid adieu,
As you travel to yonder world
...

As I passed my wicket fence
The ageing walnut tree,
Showered me with withered leaves
And said something to me;
...

I remember those summer days
When I passed by your winding lane,
Gay blossomed cottage where you lived
Vines adorning your window pane.
...

No one yet knows my new calling
Now that my profile has changed,
I reside in a cemetery
A settlement prearranged.
...

Because I could not pause for life
She kindly paused for me,
Her carriage held but just ourselves
And hospitality.
...

He owned no fabled treasures
Nor the kingdom of a king,
No horses or elephants
Nor a catapult or a sling.
...

A brook marries the river
And river the ocean blue;
The sky & winds are witnesses
Waiting by the aisle in a queue.
...

Like a crow scavenges garbage
And sometimes a prey,
I too scavenge for morsels dry
That I may live a day;
...

Those fiery skies hued red and grey
And birds in silence say,
Do hark to that stillness cool
A thunder-squall's on way.
...

Flames of my yesters
Call out to me,
From memories old
With their lovelorn plea.
...

He went to join the cedar trees
And lie under their shade,
In an old anonymous grave
That did seem somewhat staid.
...

Have been sentenced by the heavens
To keep vigil upon the dead,
Who deserted by their loved ones
Need me to care for them instead;
...

THE FOG

When the night meanders down
Lonely winding pathways,
...

Wish I was an island
Snuggling an ocean blue,
In a world far away
Lost without a clue.
...

His verses are like footsteps
Of divinity upon a page,
A melody from the heavens
That only deserving souls can gauge.
...

A sepal, petal and a thorn
Upon a sprightly summer morn,
Dew lacing blooms, and honey bees
Soft lilting breeze rustling the trees,
...

I veil my pains in poetry
Cover them with verses sublime,
Bury my thoughts in sweet rhythm
Urging them to waltz with their rhyme.
...

A summer day warms up
To a Cenotaph old,
The greens waltzing in joy
For the birds to behold;
...

There's something about a spring day
Bounteous nature waltzing her way,
It solemnizes my weary soul.
...