Wednesday, 23 December 2015

TIME


TIME


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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