Children of the sunshine play
In my garden strewn with hay
Trampling all the virgin grass
Unknowingly they make my day.
I, sometimes, extract a glee
From the frolic flowing free
In my heart of hearts to know
That myself they will not see.
Still they guess a vigil wait
Till they walk out tired, late
I see some of them steal a glance
Past my forlorn, rusted gate.
At times when they are at a game
Going through the tried same
I busy myself fending off
The urge to know some of their names.
In my eager hunt for peace
I find a solace in their ease
Of handling little hurts at play
As envy capers accomplice.
This evening at my window seat
Life does seem so incomplete
Not to mingle with the grass
That tickles all those tender feet.
The corner shop that serves us tea
And houses all furore.
From rising price to falling stars
In voices shrill and sore.
A pair of eyes does follow them
Look askance at their din
When closing shop with little hands
And washing strainers clean.
A simple riddle troubles her,
At times does make her smile
How grown up men have silly fights
Knowing all the while
People die and prices rise,
Stars shoot up at night.
Among things does never change
Her books drink in streetlight.
