Precious Moments

Precious Moments As I tread down memory lane Precious moments flow down my mind; Moments of joy, of grief and pain Stored in a bag now I can find; Yet the most marvellous moments Stream from the young days of childhood, The days of upright innocence And not from the stage of manhood. So sweet were the days of childhood, When paternal care was replete, When motherly hug was a treat, When sisterly smiles were complete, When the mind was free like the breeze, Which blew from the south-eastern shore, When watching shooing stars at ease Was always a thrilling folklore. So sweet were the days of childhood, When with friends playing hide and seek Was, indeed, a lovely pleasure, When playing football on the street Was surely a healthy leisure, When in the yard playing marbles With neighbours was a common game And not to anyone a trouble. So sweet were the days of childhood When strolling up the nearby hills Was a sane and joyful hobby, When fetching grasses from the fields Was a pleasant activity, When tilling the backyard garden soil, When picking up sticks for making fire Was a useful and pleasing toil. So sweet were the days of childhood When just close in the neighbourhood, Washing the parents` taxi car Was a nice and pleasant duty, When riding the bike close and far Was a childhood preferred hobby, When offering tailoring help Was not deemed as being shoddy. So sweet were the days of childhood When walking a mile to school, Whether in the rain or the sun, Was for ever a common rule, When climbing trees to pluck mangoes Was a pleasant and joyful fun, When bruising the knees on the street Was quite a common occurrence. So sweet ware the days of childhood When early to rise in the morning Was just a day-today routine, When offering prayers to the Lord With my loving father as well Was a function I would afford, When studying during the night. Was to me a real delight. So sweet were the days of childhood When respect for the elderlies Was just a common tradition, When always speaking tenderly Was a normal convention, When listening to fairy tales, Wittingly narrated by elders Was a pastime I could not fail. So sweet were the days of childhood When chanting of spiritual hymns Was the paroxysm of pleasure, When teachings of moral rhymes Were absorbed with zealous desires, When leaning of the supreme truth, Willingly dispensed by parents, Was fully welcome during my youth.