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Mihika Saraf

Drama Fantasy Children


Mihika Saraf

Drama Fantasy Children

Childhood Memories

Childhood Memories

2 mins

I sit here today,

As I age 72,

My kids have their kids now,

And they have left me in my oldest blue.

On my old creaky rocking chair, I lay,

Like time has frozen and I care not of my jeopardy,

I know the staircase of heaven has opened up and I am,

Waiting to happily die with my childhood memories.

I remember living in a loft downtown,

With farms and gardens to play,

Under the young bright sun along,

All throughout the day.

Where the breeze raised and the cattle played,

And the grass green dwindled amongst,

That time of wonderful youth through childhood,

Got all that the heart wants.

Where I ran all day,

Through the golden hay,

And spent my noons,

In farmer's play.

I sit here on my old creaky rocking chair,

As I flip the memory pages of childhood today.

I clung on twigs and branches,

As my little things to play,

No interest in material things,

Joyful, young, and away.

And I sat bewildering towards dandelions,

As millions of cotton-like ones flew by,

Felt like the touch of a mother's arms,

As it flew away in the sky.

As the clouds rose above me,

And heaved their mighty tears away,

I kept at myself close at heart,

And wandered and swayed.

And the sun awoke.

I spent hours around, on my freedom to gaze,

At the wonder of nature and as the cattle grazed,

I, the little farm boy, on the hay,

Dreamt of my adulthood in the midst of the day.

Never knew this was what it held,

Loneliness and looking back,

Just looking at before as the before thinks of now,

Grateful for the childhood memories that I'm now looking back at.

That small little lifetime,

Of merriment and nostalgia,

Revives in my heart and mind and vanishes away,

I think I should live till these memories revive,

Let death die, as in my rocking chair I lay.

I'm now not a golden hair and twinkling smile,

But I rewind my life in imagination, into a childhood mile. And I unwind.

I am waiting to die happily as these memories revive,

Flipping around the pages of life, with reluctance to die, 

Waiting through my oldest blue,

I lay on my old creaky rocking chair,

As I age 72.

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