1. My School Bag of Yore
I go back to my childhood days to
bring back precious memories for my orphaned children.
Combing the Sand of Years
My elementary school cloth bag of
old
I wish, I could again fondly hold
And keep with few books worn and thin
A matchbox my rainbow ladybird within
And walk to the school ever so lovable
Which used to be the manager’s stable
Tucked amidst surrounding green tea garden
Ringing with merry noises of playful children.
I had sailed to faraway unknown shores
In mad search of magical mystical lores
I saw many a giants, and many a fairies
Walked through many woods and prairies
Sandy deserts to snowy mountain slopes
Carrying in my sack ambitions and hopes
Yet I run back to the tea valley evergreen
Which in misty dreams I have often seen.
I would come here more often if I could
Where I had hidden my carefree childhood
Can I find it again, can I live it again
Can I hold it in my school bag plain
Yes, there’s the old rusty school shed
Where I was taught my first alphabet
I hear the symphony of chirpy children
Reciting the multiplication table to ten.
Where are the two teachers so kind
Them, anywhere in the world can I find
No, time has taken them far from me
To a world my earthly eyes cannot see
I comb the sand of years for tender memories
For my dad’s tasty tales, fables and stories
Told in the Saturday evenings to eager ears
Instilling happiness, curiosity, fun and fears.
All are snatched away by the cruel time
No one holds her guilty of this silent crime
God, would you give back my old school bag
That I’d thrown once into a bush, like a rag
I will pack the gems of my elementary days
Take them to the southern smoky smoggy bays
I will place them at the orphans’ uncared hands
To play with or to decorate their loveless lands.
I wish, I could again fondly hold
And keep with few books worn and thin
A matchbox my rainbow ladybird within
And walk to the school ever so lovable
Which used to be the manager’s stable
Tucked amidst surrounding green tea garden
Ringing with merry noises of playful children.
I had sailed to faraway unknown shores
In mad search of magical mystical lores
I saw many a giants, and many a fairies
Walked through many woods and prairies
Sandy deserts to snowy mountain slopes
Carrying in my sack ambitions and hopes
Yet I run back to the tea valley evergreen
Which in misty dreams I have often seen.
I would come here more often if I could
Where I had hidden my carefree childhood
Can I find it again, can I live it again
Can I hold it in my school bag plain
Yes, there’s the old rusty school shed
Where I was taught my first alphabet
I hear the symphony of chirpy children
Reciting the multiplication table to ten.
Where are the two teachers so kind
Them, anywhere in the world can I find
No, time has taken them far from me
To a world my earthly eyes cannot see
I comb the sand of years for tender memories
For my dad’s tasty tales, fables and stories
Told in the Saturday evenings to eager ears
Instilling happiness, curiosity, fun and fears.
All are snatched away by the cruel time
No one holds her guilty of this silent crime
God, would you give back my old school bag
That I’d thrown once into a bush, like a rag
I will pack the gems of my elementary days
Take them to the southern smoky smoggy bays
I will place them at the orphans’ uncared hands
To play with or to decorate their loveless lands.
Posted in Wikinut, 17December 2012
Title poem from my book - My School Bag of Yore
Xavier Bage
No comments:
Post a Comment