There’s nothing like the lovely rustic charm
Exuded by the far flung lush green country farm
Where trees in majesty sweep heaven with their crown
And birds with celestial music, the surrounding valley drown

Where the air, so pristine and sweet like the forest glade
And Heaven with rich profusion bless the country wide.
Where the rural folk in relentless toil, values and pride
With their simple, artless and modest life reside

My senses have ere long etched every sight n’ sound
Of that country side wherein my childhood inextricably bound
To those days of bliss, I would like to retreat
And splurge in memories that cascade down in surfeit.

On a beautiful day with the sun shining bright
And the white downy clouds lazily trailing west
We walked down to the creek to catch the silvery fish
And waited for them to come to the surface with a swish

On the rocky bank, breathless as we sat
Looking for the fish greedily nibbling at the bait
We felt the hook line suddenly going taut
With something from the other end pulling it tight

Of a sudden reflex as we lifted the rod upright
To our wild uproar, saw a fish dangling and twirling uptight.
“Angling in a brook on a bright sunny day
Is so much fun for the kids”, we heard someone say.

We went after dragon flies, by the side of the pond
And all through the fields and the pastures beyond
Meandering our way, chasing butterflies              
That, from flower to flower do nimbly flutter by,

We pace up and down, ever eager for the best catch
To carry home that winged thing with no other match
To shut it in a glass jar to survey it close
And watch it splay its wings in resplendent gloss.

Back from school when homework is done,
Quickly, gathering friends, we move as one
To the open ground beyond the clump of trees
To run and play in the evening breeze

As black birds wing their way across the sky
And the ruddy orb in the west is about to die,
When shadows slowly shrink and shrivel
And the dusky eve spreads a smoky veil,

Only then, demurring, we leave our play
Cursing the elements that Time doesn’t stay
****** and gritty, homeward as we plough our way
We promise once more, we would meet the next day.

As hot summer fades and dark clouds gather round,
When east wind scatters dry leaves from the ground,
When elders announce the arrival of an impending shower,
Stealthily we plan to go swimming in the nearby river.

On stormy nights as we lie, listening to the splatter of rain
Over tiled roof with the clatter of a speeding train
How swift, we drift involuntary to the castle of Slumber
To be lulled asleep by songs of magical tone and timbre!

Now, staying in the mad rush of a steaming city
With people surreptitiously chasing goals so petty
How I miss those yester years that are fled
And yearn for the sylvan paths once more to tread!!