Good Old Days

Oozing honey from a wild honey comb same like returning sweetness of childhood drips from my mind and all over it roam. Rabbit does live in the moon in the sky honey and curd is his food every day fairy tales heard and mom’s sweet lullaby. Me and my brother regularly fought often we wanted same toy after all mom frowned and dad smiled and lessons were taught. Neighboring kids were always our good friends oh! We used to play cricket on the road vowed to meet on next day; that’s how it ends. All the festivals brought us fun, it’s true we shared the food and loved to chat on lawn Christmas tree and lanterns were in a queue. The memories of golden days are gone Life’s beauty, is an illusion at dawn. Wrote for Terza Rima Form Poetry Contest On 26 November 2020 Sponsored by Constance La France Rhyming verified with www.rhymezone.com Number of syllables verified with www.howmanysyllables.com Grammar verified with PS Grammar check