When I was eight..

Read in between
my curved lips,
look deep in my
eyes so bright.
a pun caught in my
faint dimples,
crinkles my nose
in an impish delight.

Joy was when sharing
the only chocolate bar.
like when the boy next door
lent his shiny hotwheels car.
when we took turns,
riding high,on the swing
and sometimes share
a few shots on the sling.

Friends meant we
fight each other mad.
Then forget ,ripped shirts,
bruises and still be glad.
scribble last few lines
for my overdue homework.
when their own were missed
and grades went southward.

Fun meant running wild
in the monsoon showers.
climb up vines and
shake down all the flowers.
And ,come home muddied
shirts, face and nail,
setting boats of important papers
in open drain to sail.

The days passed in
unbridled joy.
The nights,tucked,
in the bed with 
a goodnight
and a favorite toy.