A Memory, the Lasting Perfume

A Festival celebrations holidays were on And a pleasure to go swimming every morn With friends to the open Arabian sea. Noticed a war-ship anchored onto the sea. Hey, buddy, let’s go up to the ship there Touch and go, who comes first to the shore. As we were about to approach the ship Saw some soldiers pointing guns at us. Fled like a frightened fish seeking the shore Forgetting who reached first and who the last. A word went round the town as of caution As it was the time of the Second World War. Nothing happened for the next few days And the ship had gone one fine morning. But we learnt the lesson of how to swim Against the tide and also with the tide. I carry about with me this diary as a treasure As the lasting perfume, not as a past pleasure ============================== The poem is an account of my childhood days Dr. Ram Mehta Sixth Place win: In Give me your best shot by John Freeman