The abode in trees…
My old house I see through the empty field,
Amid tall trees the heart silently peers.
Memories old the golden dreams now yield,
Not lied in grass under this sky for years.
The scent of downpour oozed from dirty clothes,
On tanned path fell the leaves of eucalyptus.
The bore well’s water shed the summer woes,
My childhoods echo vintage walls still truss.
But beauty worn out world does fail to see,
Youth’s memoir the deserted ecstasy,
Rekindle sweet nectar the soul does plea,
Dreams naïve are hid in nooks rickety.
Humble abode forever be serene,
May rays crepuscular augment the sheen.
[English sonnet]
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