Sitting listlessly in my armchair
I gazed through the window outside
Where stood a wall of green and blue
Moss and mould, a sorry sight of despair.

Sighing, I leaned back, reminiscing – 
The view, when the wall was not there,
Of a lush green field dotted by children
So bubbly and bright, they’d ne’er
Put both feet on the ground at once;
Of a swarm of bees busily cavorting
Over a fresh flowerbed with a buzz
That piqued the interest of a lazy cat;
Of women in sarees, carrying babies,
Enjoying badinage in groups of many.
The sounds, which the wall stifled,
Of the mellifluous hymns of songbirds
Putting their fledglings to sleep,
A theatric pleasure for men underneath;
Of hawkers calling out, unabashed,
The passersby for a fair bargain
On snacks and sweets of all sorts;
Of the cacophony of goats and cows
Being chased around by dogs and boys.

Oh! How I miss in my days of old
Those sights and sounds that kindled my mind
Now blocked by this impervious wall
Of green and blue moss and mould.

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