POEM
If asked which is
the golden period in my life
I don’t have an
iota of reluctance
to tell anyone that
such a period is
rare in my life.
In the recesses of my mind
the level of bitter days
far outweighs the golden days.
Compared to my days
both sweeter and bitter
there are many a humanbeing
who has not tasted the nectar
of golden fruit of
comfort, serenity and harmony or
delight in one’s life.
Golden days
throughout one’s life
are something
absent either in a
rich man’s/woman’s life or
a man/woman at the lower
strata of society in equal measure.
Wherever there are hills,
there are valleys, no doubt.
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