Holidays whispered like sweet sirens...
Once upon a youthful dawn, Holidays whispered like sweet sirens' call, Heart racing wild, bags packed at first light, To rush back home, where joy held us all. But time, that quiet thief, slips in with grace, Maturity's veil dims the eager flame, Now holidays come, yet the thrill has fled, A wistful sigh for what once bore no name. In growing up, we trade the child's delight For deeper roots in worlds we've come to claim Home lingers still, but the pull feels light, A gentle echo in life's steady game.