THE RETURN : RHYME 100

Infants gambol about their home

With blooms and toys,

But they return to mom's bosom

For the real joys.

Children frolic about the streams,

In meads and hedges,

But to their home they return for

Their real flowerage.

Youths do rush about crazy for

World's whole treasure,

But they return for real living

To own life and career. 

Adults get sunk into their labour

With dedication,

But this's the return to raise well

Their own children. 

The old trudge about the yard

Of their nursing shed,

And they at last return for rest

To their death bed.

-- N. P. SAMAL