Where have all those days gone, those of laughter
And of tears, when beside the huge river green,
A childhood was spent in thousand creepy fears,
Taken out of my grandmother's long night tales.
Where have all those tastes of childhood gone,
Mangoes plucked from the neighbour's orchard,
The sweet bites of freshly cut sugarcane stems,
Along with jaggery sweets from next-door kitchen.
Where have all those big dreams of life gone,
Playing doctor with sharp pencils as syringes,
Of travelling around the world in eighty days,
Of being Edmund Dante or the Musketeers.
Those childhood days beside the river green
Are now long-faded photographs and memories.
And of tears, when beside the huge river green,
A childhood was spent in thousand creepy fears,
Taken out of my grandmother's long night tales.
Where have all those tastes of childhood gone,
Mangoes plucked from the neighbour's orchard,
The sweet bites of freshly cut sugarcane stems,
Along with jaggery sweets from next-door kitchen.
Where have all those big dreams of life gone,
Playing doctor with sharp pencils as syringes,
Of travelling around the world in eighty days,
Of being Edmund Dante or the Musketeers.
Those childhood days beside the river green
Are now long-faded photographs and memories.
1 comment:
This trip was amazing down the chilhood days and ways. Sharp pencil as syringes....well, never tried that one. Last line was lovely.
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