Poetry Talk

New post from Padmajaa

It was my home!

It was my home! 

In that lavish, cornlit field, 

Our childhood danced. 

Old, rusty Khan's stall, 

Where the tea time called. 

Wearied, shabby lanes, 

Whither the tires rolled. 

Grubby, bygone school walls,

Over which our tiny shanks jumped. 

The holy summer fairs, 

With mates, ambled and cherished. 

Those days where drenched in honey, sweetened. 

 

Power swayed, sky dreaded! 

With the thorny fence and bloodshed, 

Lands and hearts sundered. 

With bulgy bleeding eyes, 

In the gloom, we fled. 

To an unknown place, 

Where we never belonged. 

That day was a nightmare,

Darkened. 

 

Decades drove with memories dwelled, 

Eyes aged pining for old mates. 

In dreams the cornfield hallooed, 

To dance on the grasses anew. 

We had left the place, undesired, 

Still it holds me to it's deepest core. 

It was not just a land soiled, but–

It was my home! 

 

 

 

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