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Last night I had a dream, 
                                         I have to tell you... 
                                              It was a dream
                                                  I never wished to end!                             

            I couldn’t hold back my tears…
                   When I found myself get off the train, took a familiar path
                         through the fields to a peaceful abode…
                                   But alas! I couldn’t find it!

            Why don’t I see the beautiful cottage surrounded by an               
                               enticing            garden,
                   of fragrant Chamelis, Rajanigandha, and Mallikas!

           the unforgettable Jasmine creeper climbing the antique roof,
                 all encircled by lemon-scented bushes of Mehndi!
   the orchard full of Guava and Mango trees which offered shade and comfort,
                  a house which was left abruptly without warning,
                                     has disappeared!

This is the house where I spent many precious years of my serene childhood,
                 with Bulbul and Koel singing their most beloved songs,
                   here was the swing - the symbol of my tender years ~
              
 here were the puddles I used to sail rainbow-tinged paper boats on rainy days.
         here was the porch under a star-studded scintillating canvas of sky
                               I gazed at with You ~ 

        I had tears in my eyes, because I couldn’t find my hamlet of peace,
                                  my solace in a turbulent life…
    the bushes grew so tall and large that the house almost disappeared from 
                                                view !                                                            

                         I decided not to go back, because I was afraid
               to hear the whispers of the blowing wind in an empty house..
        to find the once-valued carvings on the ceilings caving in, in melancholy,
                        the lonely, dusty staircase, with no footprints,
             the ruined window-coverings made of fragrant khuskhus herbs
                                 
            The dream ended, but my yearning did not...
                        With You...once again,
                                 we will find our abode together!


                                         October 13, 2022
      Edited an old poem "Holding Back Tears" for "A Mystical Dream" contest
                              Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
                                             FIRST PLACE
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