My Lost Years

Sometime I think of the peaceful Ashram That was seated by a beautiful pristine River Often in thought of the serene of the full moon night I am mostly lost in those of reflective images And those pure verse and fairy tales full of fun Keep me innocent and full of joyous activities Those sweetest memories keep my love of life I can see in the full moon at night a sage sitting still And concentrating on the moon's reflection I think of my dream lost in the past few years My boyish years were not illusive but decisive Those wishes and whispers of the sage still here Thoughts of lost years are not lost at all, Dear *Above is a reminder of my boyhood life in a joyous Ashram*