At hot noon in a summer season,
I used to be out with a reason,
Troops of boy, all elder to me,
In an orchard, with them, I used to be,
Caring their mangos with many kinds,
So many boys so many minds.
Long gone the days, I lost my childhood.
Yet, I remember it with a pretty good,
Learning from that dreamy event, I concluded,
There are three kinds of people, I included,
One who climbs up the tree, and
Second, who that stone to the mango, and
The third who sat under the tree with a hope.
Things that lured at that time, a joyful cup
I always stood with them, who climbed up..
All of them have different traits. Along with courage and craze, patience is too required sometimes. You have composed a nice poem here.
Joyful remembrance providing philosophy of life - take personal risk to achieve a goal. Nice. Thank you.
''yet. i remember it with pretty good '' very nice poem with nice rhyme, the first stanza is a sweet piece with marvellous flow with lovely diction and style..i see in you a great prospect in the field of poetry..
A nice taste of childhood and a very clear message. beautifully written with strong skill
Seeing the world through a child's eye. Well conceived and skillfully written.
10 out of 10 for this lovely poem about childhood. I enjoyed reading it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Always with him who climb up. very good Aftab.