Her eyes must have witnessed---
The rise and fall of ages
Of glorious legends,
Of many unsung races.
For they are composed of twinklings
Of grandeur, of abundance from eternal kings.
For they have witnessed---
Efforts of kings in their helms,
Tireless plough-boys in their lands,
Statured knights with hearts in hands,
Fearless warriors marching ahead
United for hope for United realms!

Her ears must have caught
In their careful attentive record,
The clangour of swords,
The neighings of war-horse.
For they are yet so sharp and quick
Of recording anything of length or brief.
For they have caught---
Moments in them while the gladiators fought,
Gospels of wisdom while the philosophers taught,
Whisperings of anarchy and all disdained plot,
Whirlings of sands under war-returning riders
Laden with loyalty laden with true effort!

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This; a compassionate treatment of remembrance of home, hometown, and homeland connected to the experience of hardships and exposition of hope. Composed by a son for his mother.