Sitting On A Marble Bench In Front Of The Taj Mahal Poem by Vinti Jetley

This is how I imagine the things would have been,
A king bereaved and sighing for his queen.
This grandeur in marble is a symbol of grief,
Love so eternal in moments so brief.
He may have ambled in this garden divine,
Or sat on this bench under fading sunshine.
Mourning for his loss, wrapped in his sorrow,
Sighing and denying each gift of tomorrow.
Passion so deep and memories so strong
Soaked in sadness as moments prolong.
I wonder if he ever thought about those
Who tended these meadows and planted this rose,
Who toiled with the weight of boulders in white,
Bent over their chisels in dying twilight.
Their hands kept working without any rest
And finished this filigree in hues perfect.
They raised this pristine structure in stone,
It surely is not the magic of love alone.