I speak of old days-
Of days by-gone.
The smooth roads,
The grassy hills.
The lovely sunshine;
The endless giggles.
The dancing butterfly.
The innocence of life.
The long afternoons;
The carefree evenings.
That baby’s sleep;
The whims and fancies.
The quarrels and tears;
The making-up and cheers.
The chidings and wonder;
The lightning and thunder.
The little paper boats –
In the dirty rain-water;
Falling sick;
Missing school thereafter.
The ice-cream treats;
Cricket matches on the streets.
The Christmas tree;
The New-year plans.
The if’s and but’s;
The Will’s and Can’s.
The dreadful exams-
The hideous result-day.
The prizes, the gifts-
And then comes May!
New books, new bags;
Old notebooks; new tags.
Friends and foes,
Seated together in same rows.
Only fights; no gossips;
What’s in the heart, is on the lips.
Summer vacations;
Winter break.
By the end of it all,
The room’s a wreck.
All that fun-
And much more.
Double it all;
Still there’ll be some in store.
‘Coz I speak of old days-
Of days by-gone:
Of smiles and laughters ;
Of never-ending dawns...
