Childhood was like gardening.
Every hard rain
Was tough to last.
We were busy in the mornings
Learning alphabets.
In the lucky hour
Bedtime stories were told.
Our free sketches
Knew no rules.
The streets were our playgrounds.
We were by the glowing warmth
Of the winter care.
No company bored us
Through strictness.
We were like little purple and white flowers
Dotted over the blanket of ground.
We were watered with wisdom
By elders.
Any child can hold
An eternity of good character,
If allowed to bloom like the
Air kissing jasmine.
We still breathe
The childhood fragrance.
Bio: Sushant Thapa holds an M.A. in English from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, India. He has published five books of English poetry: The Poetic Burden and Other Poems, Abstraction and Other Poems, Minutes of Merit, Love’s Cradle and Spontaneity: A New Name of Rhyme. He lives and teaches in Biratnagar-13, Nepal.