My lost memories

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My lost memories

She was sitting gleefully with smiles like sea
 As if the waves are glittering behind her,
Not in the sea but inside the woodland
To be accustomed to see beneficiary,
but not very selfish hereinafter.
The poorer live from hand to mouth
 And the richer are on the upstairs.
 I am growing older and the older
 Not being in the foreign strand
 But underneath the hot sun
I am always in the face of snakes
Perils like neighbour to supplement the ideas
Beset with its quiver or intoning the race.