Childhood

All is not lost Memories buried in my bosom Are not yet dead The plays, fads and foibles Bubble in my heart Giving me my precious self and The chaste child of golden days School, boys and teachers Were the part of myself As much as were the mango tress And the secretly plucked fruits The sly slips of the classes And the clever excuses Remind me of crafty endurance Days full of quest and curiosity Every moment learning new things Preserving them in ceaseless memory Bracing unwanted family intrusions An undiminished soul Always busy and demanding A baby with eternal exuberance Big dreams in the tiny heart Days full of kites and Paper-boats in rain-filled yard Father’s scare and mother’s love Stress of exams and results Marching to school with heavy bags Always eager for the last bell The days blossomed into youth Maturity and senility took over Worries, conflicts and tensions Replaced the bloom and joy Desire to retrieve the gone days Flimsy but soothing burns inside And the life goes on