Talks to me with its splendid rays of joy;
And amidst the shimmer and glimmer of frivolous thoughts,
It's time for the man to be a boy.
Attired in colours, the child takes over,
And the boy drifts into the ocean.
Here boats with orange sails are found,
And earth feels like Heaven.
The birds fly by,singing and dancing,
To charm the tired sailors;
Their voices speak of love and dreams,
And of innocent smiles and tears.
Miracles don't happen they say,
Yet I see them happen now,
The hearts of the old grow young and fresh,
And their fears are all drowned.
The kites with colours fill the sky
Their tails trailing along.
The joy in thought of such a play is,
Their strings are held in ur hands strong.
The notions of life seem so different here---
In this land of youthful fantasy.
The pleasure,the thrill and the joys of life.
Shadows out the deceit and hypocrisy.
Yet the watchful eyes never forget the reality.
The misery, the pain ----it always lurks in the heart.
And even amidst the clear blue skies and the cool winter breeze,
You can always see the boy and the man apart.
