J K Roseline with mother and younger sisters

                                     in Khamaria Jabalpur, M P India. 1972

The magic of the days

In my father’s house

 The games we loved to play

 In our growing years

 Memories of cold winter

By the fireside with siblings

Listening to the radio

 No  internet or TV 

To cast  the spell  over tender years

  Characters came alive

   From story books  we read

  Thrill  and joy  it brought

  Worth for many lives 

 In our garden we tended

Beautiful   bush of roses

 And Camellia flowers  so red

The cream chrysanthemums spread

 With creased petals fine

Stood  like stars steadily

Staring in the eye

Some in clusters at  doorstep sprouted

While blue bells sprang on fencings

 Small pomegranate  bloomed

  Among green leaves,its contrast bright

  Like thick tubular orange bulbs it lighted

 The red  fruit hung on hard too long

For the pearly seeds took time to ripe

The Mulberry bush was a loner 

 To swell with curly black tiny fruits

 The juicy soft clusters sweet and fresh

The Sunflowers loved  the bright Sun more

Its gaze  fixed while the big star was on

The guava tree most yielded

For it brought the fruit and fragrance

Along with a hot seat neat

 When we wish to receed

   Running up the tree

 Like a squirrel so quick and swift

 Hiding  in its wide branches

 The  sweet lime with fragrant leaves

With fruits and flowers   year round

We bottled all the lime juice

 Stored away for use

In winter, vines of purple grapes

 Crawled on bamboo sticks to make

Overhead  a summer shade 

 Sweet and sour small bunches

  Clusters of black  little fruits

Hung succulently without pride

Hidden from the hungry bird’s eye

  Gains its colour and fullness

Lovely Dahlia grew wildly

Double petals pink and deep maroon.

One head each stem of  flower

Bedding in the open garden,all in a row

While we four siblings  were  growing

 The thumb rule of the parents

No going to cinemas with friends 

No pocket money to spend

 Fig fruit at the corner budded

Reminds us the parable of Mathew 21:29

 “Look at the fig tree and all the trees

When they are already budding

You see and now for yourself

That summer is also near”

  Summer  jasmine blooms

Like white pearl drop  mingle

 In moonlight gardens all over

Amongst small dark green shrubs it holds

Makes pale beauty of all other

For the sensuous fragrance it exudes

  Steering up many desires

In our adolescent years

Many summers came and went

Cousins and  friends  played and left

Then one fine day

 Everything changed

The garden and house,nothing remained

We all grew up and flew away

The  old government quarters  fell

The tender garden withered away

Gobbled  by big wild shrubs

Just as his childhood home 

Was taken  away by the sea's forward march!

 By then  father built his  home

Five portions one  for each

It stood the test of time!!

In spite of  floods in rainy months

We so often gather there

  But of a carefree wonderful life

 Memories of childhood remained

 Forever vibrant   in mind’s gates

Now happy to share