Praetors Lunch | Page 3

easier to remain constant than alter a
course. Given the disposition toward ease , the well trodden tempts .Yet
heed well that it is the passage of tribulation where the coronet of glory
and honour rests on the head of those who are uncowed .They shall find
that fame latches like their own skin to their name .
TENTH MORSEL
We who hold the torch
We must be patient
Decorum requires it

The pride of a legion
lives within its standard
one standard bearer
bears
sacrament of cohorts
We who hold the torch
We must be patient
Decorum requires it

One official?s carriage
personifies the rest
one written inscription

ultimate seal of fate
We who hold the torch
We must be patient
Decorum requires it

Make way for those better
while we wait with patience
allow them
the better seats
their merit exceed ours
ELEVENTH MORSEL
I am not one to dispute the will of God ,
divine will becomes our lot ,

but I question the logic of some .
Foolish is the soul who enters the
place ,
who announces his innermost desires ,
swears a gift in
return ,
should they be fulfilled ,
by divine consent ,
upon his
earthly cares ,
mortal souls have none to offer better ,
than the

rewards of paradise ,
what are our trappings to heaven ,
when it is
God who grants ?
It is not worship or invocation ,
it is a wager
posed by hubris ,
displace pomposity and affectation ,
come in a
penitent pose ,
humility warrants attention ,
or else snuff the lamp ,

take the oil elsewhere .
I am not one to dispute the will of God ,
divine will becomes our lot ,

but I question the right of tyrants .
Charred cities after their
sacking ,
the cries of dependent humanity ,
sent to feed searing
flames ,
the weak , meek and lame ,
no daylight dawns again ,
a
winding trail of chains and clubs ,
the gathered wounded ; conquered ,

these tyrants do not govern ,
they seize and consume their fill ,

then hunger rumbles again ,
they repeat their atrocities ,
till the
Fates pluck them .
For each tyrant reaped ,
by droves victims
precede them ,
their number exceed sacrificial offerings ,
made to
appease wrathful spirits ,
or custom of ceremony ,
of a deity
worshipped .
TWELFTH MORSEL
Our moments of glory
a lifetime to remember
fair token of youth?s
vigour
Carve now before the die sets
while still new and pliable
when it
dries your mark stays
hardened and nobly set
surpassing life of
wilted crowns
a monument in your honour
Our moments of glory
a lifetime to remember
come pay heed to
youth?s prayer
We won?t be here to bother
having surpassed such worries

earthborn to earth it goes
like Assyrian ruins
to those with merits
deserving
God and kind Fortune preserve them
Our moments of glory
a lifetime to remember
mementos of youth?s

flower
THIRTEENTH MORSEL
A peasant who wishes for more
changes his plough for arms
The
army has loyal farmers
with absent fathers away far
Children of empire?s troops
though honoured their father?s name

they hardly know the man well
though his name they proudly bear
Years abroad have rendered fathers
estranged from families and
friends
yet love and regard still remain
after gaps of years and
distance
A peasant who wishes for more
changes his plough for arms
fertile
fields left idle
while we take grain from conquered lands
For children whom fathers left
when they were too young to recall

esteem comes to their hearts prior
before the warmth of filial love
At long last parted faces meet again
strange and familiar strange yet
familiar
they rekindle ties and retell tidings
memories and previous
habits return
Fertile fields left idle
while we take grain from conquered lands
the
army has its own farmers
with absent fathers battling far
Families once again reunited
when warriors in togas turn civilians

their children venture and nestle gladly
FOURTEENTH MORSEL
?De mortuis nil nisi bonum?
speak well of the departed
or else do
not speak at all .
The now sacred departed
immune to our rebuke

rejoice with their memory.

?De mortuis nil nisi bonum?
speak well of the departed
or else do
not speak at all .
Allow their good part live on
they have gone
beyond the gates
those whom we regard dearly.
FIFTEENTH MORSEL
What draws us to oracles ?
Those structures where we worship ,

The place where future unfolds ,
For those who are uncertain ,

Gripped by Trouble?s tentacles .
What draws us to oracles ?
Priests and priestesses reveal ,
With
omniscience in their being ,
With eyes of the temple gods ,
Free
from earthly manacles .
SIXTEENTH MORSEL
There is nothing loathsome ,
in learning from others ,
with elders
and with peers ,
we shared experiences ,
treasures of our youth ,

amusing in retrospect .
It is the matter?s worth
the source dictates not choice
progress
comes not from disdain
to live we nourish the form
to advance we
emulate
the source dictates not choice
It is the matter?s worth
If they should enrich us ,
ennoble the manner ,
magnify happiness ,

increase our contentment ,
in learning from others ,
there is
nothing loathsome .
SEVENTEENTH MORSEL
For common good and for own glory
a seat in the senate
For
common cause and own aspirations
a seat in the senate
For power
over destinies for by themselves they'll drown
a seat in