Memories of the Village

I walk through fields where golden sunbeams play,

And hear my childhood calling me away.

The Nile would whisper softly through the reed,

While palms stood watch above the fields of wheat and seed.

At dawn, the village stirred beneath the sky,

And birds wrote little songs as clouds went by.

The scent of bread rose warmly from the clay,

And mothers called their children home to stay.

We chased the butterflies across the land,

With dusty feet and treasures in our hand.

The evening moon would silver every tree,

And stars seemed near enough for us to see.

No walls could hold the laughter of our youth,

No wealth could match those simple days of truth.

Now years have passed, and roads have changed their name,

Yet in my heart the village stays the same.

For childhood fades, but never truly dies,

It sleeps beneath the years, then wakes inside our eyes.

I carry still that village in my soul,

Where simple dreams were rich, and hearts were whole.