Early 70s Poem by Sachidananda Panda

Call us wanton, call us naughty
We too, ran after flirty butterflies
Watched floating clouds in the skies over our head
Stole berries from trees, in the neighbours' garden
In the stormy seclusion, on a drizzling night
Did light a lantern with an ounce of kerosene
While frogs did shout at us, to go early to bed
Dripping drops on leaves, on roofs thatched
Heard lullabies, while in mother's grab
When thunder coupled with lightening clasp

Were told about the phantom and the king
Stories of ghosts or the old witch
While drooling and waking, in grandpa's lap
Drank the nectar of tales, the telling art
God and vampire a unique mix
Rich axioms of life, explained bit by bit

Still we remember, can't be forgotten ever
Dance of canes for being caught on the spot
While stealing few coins from Papa's pocket
If we deny this fact in everyone's life
Probably, it would be one of the best told lies

Days were funny, night pleasant
Restless afternoon amongst the friends
Bold and daring to chase and run
Docile and disciplined in the evening
Because! Papa was home

We thought it probably a life infinite
Death and disease for us
Were, all regressive themes
We are the cats, we are the kites
We know the art, how to acclimatize
We are stubborn, we are tough
We know the trick to win any fight
We are the children of early seventies

©Sachi-28th Apr.2021
All rights reserved