Memories of the sun: A poem 

On the haloed cow-dunged floor, dear mother and father 

To your sweet voices, from the frolic, siblings we gather 

like coloured shells crowding serendipity’s beach 

Melodies encapsulated in a warmth-blessed home to reach 

And the trees pregnant with happiness and mangoes 

The platefuls of home-cooked delectables, and rusty doors 

failing to shut out the sands of a friendly, benevolent earth 

The well deep with love, drawing out from the depths of the heart 

And the milk of the nanny, with kid bleating and just born 

washed down with tea at the sweet-sounding arias of dawn 

The burn of medicinal alcohol, both, sweet and harsh on the throat 

Sweet dreams lapping steamy nights’ shores like fisherfolk’s boats 

The wings of memories spin like yarns of golden umbilical threads 

That love was as wholesome as the cornucopia of heaven’s bread 

Bathing eternally in these springs, when winter’s fields take their turn  

`ere old, cherished hangings are still clean and crisp from the past’s sun