Dad’s Tales of Yore
The days of yore, beneath the azure sky,
My dad’s tales of childhood, at bedtime, he narrated by.
Tales of joy, tales of hardship, tales of ghosts, tales of success –
Every genre made me ponder and quiver, I confess.
His growing up, was in a humble abode,
With tiled roofs that danced,
And waltzed away as cyclones advanced.
With a shrill scream, they’d scurry away,
Under the dining table, their refuge to stay.
No carriages nor carts then, just feet on ground,
To school or shop they trod through the village surround.
With laughter and chatter, they made their way,
Along fields and railway tracks, come what may.
Sharing scraps, in siblings embrace,
In their modest dwelling, LOVE found its place.
Though lacking much, they knew no want,
For JOY abound resided in their heart.
Those yester years, where simplicity reigned,
Moments were cherished, amidst life’s strain.
For in the least, they found the best,
Through their tales, we children learn and are blessed.
