If some magic wand I could find
My childhood days I would rewind.

The carefree me, the innocent boy
The trees, the streams, all for my joy.

Playing with the lads under moonlight
That shone and joined us with delight.

The birds which I, with childish skill,
Had set traps for, or shot and killed.

Still I recall, to ward off cold,
The bonfires: red, raging, bold!

The warming urns, the earthen bed
To which I returned to lay my head.

The proud and generous mango tree
At my father’s door, where we had tea.

I wish I could live in childhood’s realms
Had wishes not been just like dreams!