Rolling back the days,
Back into the old class
Rejoicing the mischievous plays
Gives a ceremonious flash.
Down I go to the class room
Visualising the kids enter
With a curious gloom,
Waiting for a quick exit.
Sauntering into the playground,
I see a merry-go-round,
Which held us altogether
In an intimate tether.
Standing on the portals,
Glancing through the totals,
Renders a feeling pleasant,
Registers a thought decent.
My heart goes to you,
Since my thoughts are from you
I am bound to you my dear,
For what I am in the near.
Meenas Poems 