Gone Days 4 - Poem by Rajpal Singh
Times fury is visible, though,
In wrinkled face and grey brow,
Heart longs and yearns to go
Back into childhood days of AJO.
The word appears so lovely and dear;
Often resonates within heart’s little cage;
Nostalgically it cherishes to wear
The coat of those gone days.
The teachers, esteemed and endeared,
Delivered from rich precious treasure,
With rage, fury, love and care
To mend pupils and a behavior improper.
Willful waywardness and funny behavior
With mischief of that tender age
Amid a lot of noise and clamor,
All flashed back and took to gone days.
Peeping through the windows of class
In friskiness of tender juvenescence
To passerby and pretty fair lass,
Which augured youth’s pre-imminence.
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