I loved to run on the hot, dry earth,
along that sun‑warmed road.
Pure joy—watching the dust rise
in a swirl of laughter,
and feeling the sun kiss my skin
as I ran to make my kite take off.
And to romp all day on that golden plain,
away from home.
Where time stood still;
to slide down the hill with reckless joy
on a palm sheath, screaming my lungs out.
Then to quench my thirst
at a natural spring oozing
crystal‑clear water.
Ah, that was the best of joy
in a boy’s summer escapade.