Old Days Poem by hassan hayati

I miss the old days, in many hours, in many ways
We went to school on foot
Winter days on the snow, we did play and scoot
Stories were made on the way, every day
We fought, but soon reconciled and made a new play
School was not near, but interesting and pleasant
We were always late, after the teacher was present
I miss our old big crowded house
And the basement store with a smart mouse
Mother kept the groceries in the barrel made of tin
The spry mouse and hungry kids dreamed to find a way in
I miss the alley; it was not flat but fair
I miss the jasmine, on the wall shoulders like hair
Hair of young pretty girl left in the wind
The fragrant blooms on them were pinned
Gradually the blooms were welcomed by the ground open hug
The black pave was painted like a Persian rug
I miss the old days in different ways
Swimming in the river in Junes and Mays
It was our daily habit all hot summer time
Picking an apple not allowed, was our worst crime
The world was a world
We were young and bold
Now the world is just a village, then we are decrepit and old