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Dare To Dream- by Wendy Silva

Close your eyes and let your imagination fly away.
See a picture of where you wish to be one day.

Let the colors of your heart take command and paint the picture of your
dream and place it in your hand.

Hold on tightly and nurture it,
but allow it room to grow.
When you reach your dream,
open your hand and let it go

Close your eyes and search for another,
caring for it as before.
Never stop searching,achieving and letting go,for that's what dreams are for.

Yash Nanoskar (20060)

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Don't ask me, Love, For that first love.
By: Mimi Khalwati

Don't think I haven't changed. Who said absence makes the heart grow fonder?
Though I watch the sunset redden everyday,
days don't grow longer.

There are many kinds of silence,
none more radiant than the Sun's.
Sun is silent in our presence,
unlike love, silent when it's gone.

I thought that every spring was you,
every blossom, every bud ;
that summer had little to do with follow,
singing in my blood.

How wrong I was. What had summer
to do with sorrow in full spate?
Every rosebush, every flower
I passed, stood at a stranger's gate.

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Dreams
Poet: Chelci Biggs

Dreaming is our souls
voice from within.
Connecting our brain
and hearts true feelings.
Dreams are the voice,
that needs to be heard.
Not like just any,
but a black n white picture.
The details may seem
blurry to ones eye.
But another sees color,
in a different light.
The picture is printed
out there before you.
It's your decision,
on what dreams you make
come true.

Samiksha Govekar
20049

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Sasha Dias
Leisure
~W. H. DAVIES
WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

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Alone :

From childhood's hour I have not been

As others were; I have not seen

As others saw; I could not bring

My passions from a common spring.

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow; I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone;

And all I loved, I loved alone.

Then- in my childhood, in the dawn

Of a most stormy life- was drawn

From every depth of good and ill

The mystery which binds me still:

From the torrent, or the fountain,

From the red cliff of the mountain,

From the sun that round me rolled

In its autumn tint of gold,

From the lightning in the sky

As it passed me flying by,

From the thunder and the storm,

And the cloud that took the form

Siya(20081)

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Julia Donaldson
"I Opened a book and in I strode
Now nobody can find me.
I've left my chair,my house,my road,
My town and my world behind me.
I'm wearing the cloak,I've slipped on the ring,
I've swallowed the magic potion.
I've fought with a Dragon,dined with a king
And dived in a bottomless ocean.
I Opened a book and made some friends.
I shared their tears and laughter
And followed their road with its bumps and bends
To the happily ever after.
I finished my book and out I came.
The cloak can no longer hide me.
My chair and my house are just the same,
But I have a book inside me."
(NIKHIL SAWANT
2OO35 FYBSc A)

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THE SILVER LILY
The nights have grown cool again, like the nights
of early spring, and quiet again. Will
speech disturb you? We're
alone now; we have no reason for silence.

Can you see, over the garden--the full moon rises.
I won't see the next full moon.

In spring, when the moon rose, it meant
time was endless. Snowdrop's
opened and closed, the clustered
seeds of the maplesfell in pale drifts.
White over white, the moon roses over the birch tree.
And in the crook, where the tree divides,
leaves of the first daffodils, in moonlight
soft greenish-silver.

We have come too far together toward the end now
to fear the end. These nights, I am no longer even certain
I know what the end means. And you, who've been with a man-
after the first cries,
doesn't joy, like fear, make no sound?

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LIFE
.......Feaad Hussein

Some people say life is great,
You should have faith,
Live the life you love before it's to late.
Always achieve your goals before your life has major holes.
Always be brave and you'll be remembered in you grave,
Don't let anyone tell you what to do your not their slave.

Always remember who you are,
You're your own star.
When you look in the mirror
You'll be able to say there is no error.
Life is a test make smart moves and you'll become the best.

(Vidhya Ananthu)

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STILL I RISE
By - Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise
( Nikita vaingankar
20036)

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(- Robert Frost)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

(Esha Sakhalkar)

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What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

(Vishakha Naik)

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A Thing of Beauty

-- John Keats

A thing of beauty is a joy forever:

Its loveliness increases; it will never

Pass into nothingness; but still will keep

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing

A flowery band to bind us to the earth,

Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth

Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,

Of all the unhealthy and o'er -darkn'd ways

Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,

Some shape of beauty moves away the pall

From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,

Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon

For simple sheep; and such are daffodils

With the green world they live in; and clear rills

That for themselves a cooling covert make

'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,

Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:

And such too is the grandeur of the dooms

We have imagined for the mighty dead;

An endless fountain of immortal drink,

Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.

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TREES
......Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of Robin's in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Mahreen Lohani

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–by Wendy Silva

Close your eyes and let
your imagination fly away.
See a picture of where
you wish to be one day.

Let the colors of your
heart take command
to paint the picture of your
dream and place it in your hand.

Hold on tightly and nurture it,
but allow it room to grow.
When you reach your dream,
open your hand and let it go.

Close your eyes and search for
another, caring for it as before.
Never stop searching, achieving and
letting go, for that's what dreams are for.
— recited by

Sakshi Rane

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When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the roads you're trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and debts are high,
And you want to smile but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down quite a bit
Rest if you must, but don't quit.

For life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a  failure runs about,
When he might have won if he'd struck it out.
Don't give up through the pace seems slow,
You many succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than,
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has give up,
When he might have captured the Victor's cup;
And he learned to late when the night came down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is just failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far.
So stick to the flight when you're hardest hit,
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit!

Sakshi Chowdhary
20047

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December Moon by May Sarton

Snow silence fills my head
After I leave the window.

Hours later near dawn
When I look down again
The whole landscape has changed
The perfect surface gone
Criss-crossed and written on
Where the wild creatures ranged
While the moon rose and shone.

Why did my dog not bark?
Why did I hear no sound
There on the snow-locked ground
In the tumultuous dark?

How much can come, how much can go
When the December moon is bright,
What worlds of play we’ll never know
Sleeping away the cold white night
After a fall of snow.
[Name-Chaitali Pujari, Roll number-20013]

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Don't Quit by John Greenleaf Whittier
When things go wrong as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is strange with it's twists and turns
As every one of us sometimes learns
And many a failure comes about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up though the pace seems slow-
You may succeed with another blow.

Success is failure turned inside out-
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt ,
And you never can tell just how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit-
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.

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The snake trying
to escape the pursuing stick,
with sudden curvings of thin
long body. How beautiful
and graceful are his shapes!
He glides through the water away
from the stroke. O let him go
over the water
into the reeds to hide
without hurt. Small and green
he is harmless even to children.
Along the sand
he lay until observed
and chased away, and now
he vanishes in the ripples
among the green slim reeds.
- W.W.E. ROSS

SWETA GOUNDER

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The Dolphins
- Carol Ann Duffy
World is what you swim in, or dance, it is simple.
We are in our element but we are not free.
Outside this world you cannot breathe for long.
The other has my shape. The other's movement
forms my thoughts. And also mine. There is a man
and there are hoops. There is a constant flowing guilt.

We have found no truth in these waters,
no explanations tremble on our flesh.
We were blessed and now we are not blessed.
After travelling such space for days we began
to translate. It was the same space. It is
the same space always and above it is the man.

And now we are no longer blessed, for the world
will not deepen to dream in. The other knows
and out of love reflects me for myself.
We see our silver skin flash by like memory
of somewhere else. There is a coloured ball
we have to balance till the man has disappeared.

The moon has disappeared. We circle well-worn grooves
of water on a single note. Music of loss forever
from the other's heart which turns my own to stone.
There is a plastic toy. There is no hope. We sink
to the limits of this pool until the whistle blows.
There is a man and our mind knows we will die here.

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THE SALT OF THE EARTH by Charles Swinburne

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THE SALT OF THE EARTH by Charles Swinburne

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RECITED BY --> VISHNU SAWANT
FYBSC A
20058
IF childhood were not in the world,
But only men and women grown;
No baby-locks in tendrils curled,
No baby-blossoms blown;

Though men were stronger, women fairer,
And nearer all delights in reach,
And verse and music uttered rarer
Tones of more godlike speech;

Though the utmost life of life-s best hours
Found, as it cannot now find, words;
Though desert sands were sweet as flowers
And flowers could sing like birds,

But children never heard them, never
They felt a child-s foot leap and run:
This were a drearier star than ever
Yet looked upon the sun

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Why me?
If you have to ask Why me?
When you're feeling really blue,
When the world has turned against you
And you don't know what to do,
When it pours colossal raindrops
And the road a winding mess,
And you're feeling more confused
Than you could ever express
When the saddened sun won't shine,
When the stars will not align,
When you'd rather be
Inside your bed
The covers pulled
Above your head
When life is something
That you dread
And you have to ask why me? ....
Then when the world seems right and true,
When the rain has left a gentle dew,
When you feel happy being you,
Please ask yourself why me? Then, too.

Nelamy Costa

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After Death
By Christina Rosetti
Recited by Bipana KC(20010)
The curtains were half drawn ,the floor was swept
And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may
Lay think upon the bed on which I lay.
Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept.
He leaned above me, thinking that I slept
And could not hear him;but I heard him say,
'poor child,poor child':and as he turned away
Came a deep silence,and I knew he wept.
He did not touch the shroud,or raise the fold
That hid my face ,or take my hand in his,
Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head:
He did not love me living:but one dead
He pitied me;and very sweet it is
To know he is still warm though I am cold.

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It Couldn't Be Done, Recited By Rupit Bhandari

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It Couldn't Be Done, Recited By Rupit Bhandari

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Recited by Rupit Bhandari, Roll No. 20046

It Couldn’t Be Done

By Edgar Albert Guest
Somebody said that it couldn’t be done

But he with a chuckle replied

That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one

Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.

So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin

On his face. If he worried he hid it.

He started to sing as he tackled the thing

That couldn’t be done, and he did it!

Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;

At least no one ever has done it;”

But he took off his coat and he took off his hat

And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.

With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,

Without any doubting or quiddit,

He started to sing as he tackled the thing

That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,

There are thousands to prophesy failure,

There are thousands to point out to you one by one,

The dangers that wait to assail you.

But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,

Just take off your coat and go to it;

Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing

That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.

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20046, Poem- It Couldn't Be Done, E A Guest

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Its beauteous evening ,clam and free
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration ,the broad a sun
A thing of beauty is a joy forever
It's loveliness increase,it will never pass
into nothingness
But it will keep bower quiet for us and
and asleep full of sweet dreams and health
and quiet  breathing forever
-D.Nency

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20046, Poem- It Couldn't Be Done, E A Guest

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Anushka D'sa
20004

THE ROSE
Have you ever loved a rose ,
and watched her slowly bloom;
and as her petals would unfold,
you grew drunk on her perfume.

Have you ever seen her dance ,
her leaves all wet with dew;
and quivered with a new romance
the wind , he loved her too.

Have you ever longed  for her,
On night that go on and on;
for now, her face is all a blur,
Like a memory kept too long.

Have you ever loved a rose,
and bled against her thorns;
and swear each night to let her go ,
then love her more by dawn.

By lang leav

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Not every isolated soul
Is looking for a saviour.
To see the proof, and silent truth,
Just take a look at nature.
A single solitary flower
Is as beautiful alone.
A meadow full is pleasurable
But each grows on it's own.
Caterpillars are companionless
As they retire to their cocoons.
No- one near bears witness
And regardless, still they bloom.
With space and time
They become their best.
With grace, redefined,
Just being, they are blessed.

-Ms Moem

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"Counting the Beats" by Robert Graves (1895  1985)

You, love, and I,
(He whispers) you and I,
And if no more than only you and I
What care you or I?
Counting the bests,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.
Cloudless day,
Night, and a cloudless day,
Yet the huge storm will burst upon their heads one day
From a bitter sky.
Where shall we be,
(She whispers) where shall we be,
When death strikes home, O where then shall we be
Who were you and I?
Not there but here,
(He whispers) only here,
As we are, here, together, now and here,
Always you and I.
Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.

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Bhavika Naik

A dog is A Dog
by T. S. Eliot
Now dogs pretend they like to fight;
They often bark, more seldom bite;
But yet a Dog is, on the whole,
What you would call a simple soul.
Of course I'm not including Pekes,
And such fantastic canine freaks.
The usual Dog about the Town
Is much inclined to play the clown
And far from showing too much pride
Is frequently undignified.
He's very easily taken in-
Just chuck him underneath the chin
Or slap his back or shake his paw,
And he will gambol and guffaw.
He's such an easy-going lout,
He'll answer any hail or shout.

Again I must remind you that
A Dog's a Dog - A CAT'S A CAT.