A narrow lane with cobblestone,

Where twilight whispers linger,

The echoes of a childhood roam,

Through time, they brush my fingers.

The old oak tree with branches wide,

A castle in our dreams,

Its ancient roots, a place to hide,

Where laughter flows in streams.

The scent of rain on dusty streets,

A fragrance sweet, profound,

Where every step my memory greets,

With whispers all around.

The cottage by the riverside,

With shutters painted blue,

Where warmth and love and dreams abide,

And skies forever true.

The rusted swing that creaks at night,

A song of days gone by,

Where every star a guiding light,

That twinkles in the sky.

The market square, the vendor’s call,

The wares of yesteryear,

A place where simple joys enthrall,

And hearts could always cheer.

These fragments of a time now past,

A tapestry so fine,

In dreams, they come to me at last,

And wrap this heart of mine.

For though I wander far and wide,

My soul can always see,

That narrow lane where memories bide,

Forever home to me.