Oh the joy of those summer days!
Gone adrift from the bearer’s gaze;
From sinking pits of burning sands
I reach out my empty hands;
My mind yearns for another time,
that wilted away an age of prime,
left in air,the ghosts of a spring,
her fragrance I bear deep within;
By streets and lights, I walk again,
bright from memories that yet remain;
On walls I paste, whose colors decline,
‘Wanted’ posters for those lost times!