I remember a time when summer was
Endless days of mindless fun
As we played in the scorching sun
Without a care or pause.
A time when mangoes lay in crates
The still air laden with their scent
And we ate them to our heart’s content
As the seeds lay stacked in our plates
And when the play for the day seemed done
It was time for books and treats
Under makeshift tents of torn bedsheets
That always had enough room for everyone
With each year these memories fade
The crates replaced by boxes small
Instead of tents, now tall glass walls
As through the workload we wade
And though sometimes the day is cooled
With much awaited evening rains
I do miss all the play, the games
Those days when mangoes and magic ruled!
