Wednesday, 23 December 2015



Would that time had no passion for pace

It too, felt jaded, it too, felt laze.

Mom's lap of luxury still be mine

Humming crooning lullabies

She is a mellifluous singer

Soft rhythmic taps, affectionate kisses

My childhood would linger.

Four-limbed hopping gosling

Yells and screams

Crawling, I would ramble over

To my dreams.

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