A Modern Tribute to Antiquity

A bit I have travelled, in the cities of this world
Each with a history – a tale that can be told
Through the lens of the roving tourist’s eye
Who often does, with some wonder, sigh

As an ancient tableau in a busy modern street
He does - camera-ready – with much awe greet
Or into a monument with a stellar, glorious past
He might saunter and wonder about the cast

Of characters who had with much energy wrought
The fame and fortune that has become the city’s lot
Or from the imposing zenith of its top-most spire
A city view, its history and legacy admire.

But no town has moved me to so much awe
Than, when from Waverley first I saw
The pomp and grandeur of Edinburgh city
A modern tribute to antiquity.

And though it has moved along with the times
Through its buildings and festivals, history chimes
For each brick and cobblestone is filled with the lore
Of a Gaelic people in the days of yore.

Not a castle, but a city straddling many a precipice
For the architect, it most definitely is sheer bliss
To career down streets that plunge like ravines
And gaze up at spires that greet the heavens

From the castle, the artist, photographer or poet
Can never cease to admire this most splendid set
The numerous shades of brown, black, green and blue
As he gazes down at an all-embracing tableau

Of craggy rock way beyond the deep-blue firth
And architecture of immense historic worth
And meadows with vast blankets of green
That add to the city’s aura, its majestic sheen

‘Tis little wonder then, that simple, mere mortals
Were by this city inspired to open the portals
Of ideas, dictums and ambitions in depth incredible
That they have, on history, made marks indelible

As the ones this “alternation in height and depth” has made
On every visitor who has, at least for a brilliant day, stayed
And listened to piping bands tell many diverse stories
Of a city from which he will take away magnificent memories.

The Muse

When with my wife and son, I first gazed down
At the beauty of Derwentwater in Keswick town
I was moved to awe, admiration and sheer reverence
For I was graced with beauty of such immense presence.

Such scenery, hitherto, I had only vicariously seen
On the artist’s canvas and the cinema screen
And of the awe, it could, in us mortals inspire
I had read of in many a poet’s quire.

No matter the angle, position or perspective
This was natural beauty, a landscape most emotive
Of verdant islands in a lake shimmering in the sun
And of shades of green, that did, to the horizon run.

Of majestic mountains masked by slivers of mist
And swans whose necks did gracefully twist
To the sounds and chirps that filled the air
As I simply continued to “stand and stare”

At flecks of white scattered all across the dale
Content to, in such beauty, ruminate and regale
As the sun shone down and the wind rapaciously blew
At the stream of tourists that steadily grew

Yes, this was nature in its grandeur and pomp
Through which man could at his leisure romp
And take in this theatre of such verdant green
That has for more than centuries been

An inspiration for “emotions oft recollected in tranquillity”
The muse for a simple and rustic school of poetry.