Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com

When the clock ticks seven

It’s our time to have happy heaven

Standing high and hot in cloudless north

We used to wish those glaring rays.

Watering those reedy and weedy grass

We used to have our coffee biscuits

With a loud laugh of happy four

Washing my father’s car

Splashing those waters high

Through the yard of happy roam

Throwing each other’s snowy foam

All those days are passed as gray.

Heads and toes closed in blankets

Thinking of those rushing weekdays

Longing for those sleepy weekends

I just want to run to my happy past!

I just want to run to my happy past!

                                   -Harini Bharati.S

%d bloggers like this: