A memory of the past!

A dream is like a cradle. That you play it, that you swing it. 
A lot many memories, remain in your heart of hearts,
the ones of your childhood, that you can’t ever part with.
The ones of the sunshine, when the game of cricket meant,
to wake up early in the morning and meet friends in the park,
and feel the chill touching you, while the sun was rising,
and the mist covered leaflets of the trees, would warm,
and the look of the park was spellbound. The manner,
it would be like a painting, a shadow of those trees,
that would become, as the sun had risen, with a lot many,
wishes composed in its upcoming. There was solace,
of inner chords then, when the atmosphere would be,
as flourishing and fructifying, with the call of love. 
The game of cricket would be as transcendental,
as fulfilling the rough patches, that had become, 
after missing on the game of cricket with friends.
Either due to exams or when the friends would be far.

The wish, the dream of togetherness, always beautifies;
as the soul dances and sings whenever in the company,
of the friends, and a game of cricket under the shadows,
of the trees, after the sun warms, the air, the winds,
that would flash in the early morning, and yet,
refreshening, every patch of goodness and harmony,
residing its presence in the heart. The tea-party of the,
men is still blossoming, in the early part of the day.
Like those days, these days are as auspicious to them,
just that we boys have grown up from beings kids,
to men, hence getting busy with our lives, to bring-
our dreams to near reality. But, one thing we miss the most,
in tryst to reach our goals, is to have forgotten the love,
the charm, and beauty of the sunrise. The sentimentality,
of the park that awaits every day, for us to cast upon,
one look upon its longing, that gets unseen, as we flash by,
in our scooters and cars, listening to rock songs,
while forgetting the dreams of childhood, the innocence,
and the freshness of thoughts and mannerisms. 
We forget the cycle rides, in the early part of the day,
through the different roads, we would race and then,
sit by the swings, discussing, talking of our school,
and different sports. 

While I pass the park today, I can catch the sight of a lady,
who still sits today outside her house on a chair, watching,
the birds, whispering through the leaves of the trees,
their songs of wisdom and joy can be sensed. She sits there,
waiting for the glance of those, little boys and girls,
who once greeted her in the morning, until the evening stars.
They would ring her doorbell, to get back their cricket ball,
that had been hit very long, to the second floor of house.
Oh, how affectionate was that bond. The stars, the cheer,
and applause. Only if you look back once today at the park,
could you remember, how breathtaking, was the reward.
The shine, the pearls, of the sight of the trees and the stars.

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