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                                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.
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