Evening of tales under the Mango tree

Mild breezes welcome the evening

As clouds sail, birds fly away

No one is happier than the hamlet children

For them, it was a time to travel,

Time to travel through stories,

Time to see places

And time to put the days burden off


Pile of tree leaves serve as seats

Children go about, searching for nice spots

To sit…

On their way, they pick handful of leaves

Some gather more than they need,

Maybe for their friends or siblings

The evening wind talked of a coming rain

But the children knew the evenings tricks

When finally she came around,

The old story teller with her walking stick

Everyone sat down,

The only sound will be the creaky stool

Which the story teller tried to sit on


With a warm smile she welcomed all
Then she broke into a common song

And the children sang happily with her

This was their moment and when the tales began

Half of them slept on their siblings laps

Dreaming away, of those places granny told of,

Of lands far away, where golden wheat grow,

Of places where grapes are coated in sugar,

Of lands where grows great flower fields,

With the sun painting shadows of them

So that the shadows look like scarecrows

Now, they dream also of chocolates, fruits

Of everything that can make a child happy

They dream of places where girls laugh when they dance in farm barns

And the trees drop all sweet candies


But then, each evening of tales

Grows each childs fantasy

And act as a sweet lullaby

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