#HomecomingPoetry

I see in my dreams.
The small gate,
The periwinkles and the marigold.
A creaky folding chair
bearing my grandpa, growing old.

Oiling his knees,
Embracing the winter sun.
Cheers and chuckles of two children,
Running aimlessly, just for fun.

Fighting for the marbles but
Sharing a broken cookie
with my brother.
Our careless games and high jumps,
Interrupted by the mother.

"Be careful, Take care" her frequent shouts.
The scoldings and love mixed together,
Her concerns were really out.

The delicious smell of freshly cooked rice,
The old music from the radio,
Melting in the air,
Very pleasant, very nice.

Eagerly waiting for Papa to come,
But when call bell rang, we kept mum.

Pretended to do...