In
childhood's bliss, where innocence prevails,
We
roamed and played in fields and hills,
Each
memory a treasure that forever hails,
The
joy of youth, time that never stills.
😊😊
As I
recall those days of old,
Nostalgia
takes hold of my soul,
The
sights and sounds, so vivid and bold,
Of a
time when life was pure and whole.
😊😊
Like
Ghalib, I long for those days anew,
When
laughter and love filled each day through,
A
time when the heart was light and true,
And
dreams of tomorrow, fresh and new.
😊😊
And
like Wordsworth, I cherish those scenes,
Of
meadows and woods, and sunlit greens,
Of
birds and beasts, and crystal streams,
That
fed my soul, and fueled my dreams.
😊😊
And
Keats, whose verse so rich and grand,
Paints
beauty in every scene and strand,
Reminds
me of the magic in each land,
And
the wonder that awaits, close at hand.
😊😊
Childhood
memories, a trove of gold,
Of
growth and change, of stories untold,
The
foundation of life, so pure and bold,
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