June, it ever chills my heart
When rain falls in withered lands
The odour of wet mud paves me
Years back of school days ever
The busy streets with coloured flask
Books and brown covers reminds me
Still excitements of new beggining
Of school life indeed.
Keenly listening in morning
School hours voice of strikers outside
And eagerly waiting for the bell ring
Is what I sill remember.
The sleepy hours the dreamy hours
Were all learnt on school hours.
Monday even now is a curseful day
As Friday is a funful day.
All now in a flash of light as become
Just cherishable moments to recollect.
When rain falls in withered lands
Years back of school days ever
The busy streets with coloured flask
Books and brown covers reminds me
Still excitements of new beggining
Of school life indeed.
Keenly listening in morning
School hours voice of strikers outside
And eagerly waiting for the bell ring
Is what I sill remember.
The sleepy hours the dreamy hours
Were all learnt on school hours.
Monday even now is a curseful day
As Friday is a funful day.
All now in a flash of light as become
Just cherishable moments to recollect.
1 comment:
looks like your school days were very memorable :) nice one. try this :
http://soulorb.blogspot.in/2012/03/we-all-sleep-under-same-stars.html
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