Reminiscence

Image courtesy: Google

Bracing the coast of the Arabian Sea,
A tiny little village you can see.
A resplendent lighthouse its only attire,
which guides the sailors in despair.

With his roots deeper to ground;
Palm trees and plantations all around,
Stood that sturdy banyan tree bold,
A sign of wisdom, this bark of old.

Spreading his branches full of leaves,
A sigh of relief he always gives,
In scorching sun and lashing rain,
For passers-by in his rein.

Always a shelter for those who lap,
when they stop for a quick short nap.
Time passes like a racing deer;
Taking its toll on this tree so dear.

He loses his strength like a fallen hound,
His roots unable to base him sound.
It was the day of the dreadful storm,
Poor old banyan sway and infirm,
He looked upon the coast in bemoan
And tumbled to the ground for all to mourn.

                     ~~~~~~~~~