Every festive season <br />He arrived with his toys and balloons. <br />For so many decades <br />He had been a common appearance. <br /> <br />Right through my years <br />He was seen in the same corner. <br />Right through the umpteen seasons <br />He had gone into my very horizon. <br /> <br />When the days were hot, <br />He would arrive with his lot. <br />When the festival was naught, <br />He would move to another spot. <br /> <br />It was indeed a sanguine world, <br />It was indeed a dancing world. <br />To us tiny tots <br />That was a pageantry of life. <br /> <br />With his balls and toys, <br />With eagerly looking little eyes, <br />My childhood hath laughed with him, <br />My boyhood hath grown with him. <br /> <br />Now my children enjoy the winds, <br />They wait for his arrival from the distant woods. <br />Every season the way farer appears and disappears, <br />He leaves a lingering trail behind. <br /> <br />But for the past few seasons <br />He is not seen around. <br />Is he lying ill? <br />Or hath he crossed the last hill? <br /> <br />The festival is now over, <br />The way farer is now gone. <br />Where are those toys and balloons now? - <br />Deeply buried in the garden of life. <br /> <br />15/11/2000 <br />xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx<br /><br />Ravi Panamanna<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-way-farer/
