Memory Of My Village Comments

Bare field and arid dust with populous Countrymen with nimble wit live with Seething eyes.///

The soft, winsome sun, that warmed the earth did look curious and ingenious to revive the hearts. Prayer followed the stillness of the morn And dissolved in day's strenuous toil

Blooms that swayed in devious aloofness. The old familiar faces in arduous cottages, The smoke that fought with morning mist, The cry though silent of empty stomach, And the night that desired not to end in Cold wintry night,

Long years ago the earth Was green with pure shoot and pious Sun. The soil was unmixed with morning nectar, The air blew loaded with fragrance from furtive Blooms that swayed in devious aloofness.

Bare field and arid dust with populous Countrymen with nimble wit live with Seething eyes.///

With time all is gone - the men that enticed The life and existence with unoffending Pride did sail to other shore.

Indolent soil with vertiginous gloom People lived with woozy pleasance. The earth full of fluty, cacophonous Concurrence of the birds and beasts Was a heaven.

The soft, winsome sun, that warmed the earth did look curious and ingenious to revive the hearts. Prayer followed the stillness of the morn And dissolved in day's strenuous toil

Blooms that swayed in devious aloofness. The old familiar faces in arduous cottages, The smoke that fought with morning mist, The cry though silent of empty stomach, And the night that desired not to end in Cold wintry night,

Long years ago the earth Was green with pure shoot and pious Sun. The soil was unmixed with morning nectar, The air blew loaded with fragrance from furtive Blooms that swayed in devious aloofness

Your searching poem coincides with my memories of the small village where I was born, and lived for 15 years. I still see 'the old familiar faces', some in cottages, some in houses. Morning prayer was part of the day's ritual, as in your attractive village.

Once our Earth was beautiful and fresh in its pristine glory! But with overpopulation, the reckless exploitation of natural resources and escalating pollution, earth has lost all its beauty. Now we see an arid stretch of land devoid of fertility and green verdure! Time has stolen many things away! A poem almost like a lament!