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
Copyright © Rasitha Ranasinghe | Year Posted 2020
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