Time







SπŸ’ŽaπŸ’ŽpπŸ’ŽpπŸ’ŽhπŸ’ŽiπŸ’ŽrπŸ’ŽeπŸ’Ž

Time, past noon... stood I  at the  balcony,
catching cool breeze and watching ,children play with beach sand in hamony,
They rub themselves in mire ,their noise of laughter heard from  miles,and no sooner, they  cry with much pain...
yet never sort for an Anthony
 ...reminds me of mine...

A time, when playing with other kids would make me reel like one drunk with strong wine ...
A time, when we could curse the rain for destroying castle made of  fine beach sand..
yet  bathe we, in it's ice without knowing the cold...

A time ,when all we desire was a date at the beach
where we could teach life ,the crafts we were born with....
A time ,when all we knew were told us by those who own us. ..
wondered why I love those times?

Those times make real!!
time spent with other kid,soon, absorbed,like waters in a beach sand poured!!
 yet with this other Me! were memories forever!!!

Still,history fore tells the mystery,of how the womb humbly  bound us with one umbilical cord,in no time let us loose...
 a bundle of blessings were we!!
to the ones who own us...

Bound beyond biblical vows yet not identical ,
It's so true...these two is heavenly!!
driven by destiny into growth,
both glow!!




SπŸ’ŽaπŸ’ŽpπŸ’ŽpπŸ’ŽhπŸ’ŽiπŸ’ŽrπŸ’ŽeπŸ’Ž

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