How oft the silent sound of martins heard
Over the green leaved trees as day departs
Will bring the memory of an annual day.
Did we perhaps embark without a word
Or just imagine the beating of hearts
In the fine room set apart for the fray?
Meeting with others, for a common cause
Inside the one firm now long departed,
Such was the deep tremor of the chords which
Spoke of tax, of people and of purpose
That we all expressed with uplifted head
Hopes far better than simply to enrich.
E’en so now, though our paths are far away,
Each memory rings as if but yesterday.

Another year, another day away from the office

In February’s cold dark dank moonlit morn
See, a fiery Hispanic branch was born
A model of excellence to all who were torn,
Bluebells arose as she embraced the storm,
Exhaling canephoras in the twilight of dawn,
Languidly somnulant upon the velvet lawn.

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Golden, as the sun rising in the east,
Another day to be filled with festive feast
Year added unto year, it behoveth me to say,
Like Venus in her orb and triumphal array
Enhancing to kith and kindred all
Every service and every loving call.
Did ere such kindness rest?
Were any mother ‘ere so blest?
As thine, and thou, whose blessed memory
Ringeth out o’er years gone by,
Delighting all who in her shadow rest
So that she shall be forever blest.