The soft touch of a winter morning breeze 

A gentle ray of sunlight touches me

It's not the harsh touch of summer's day 

Nor the dampness of the rainy days 

It's like the warm hug of a mother's chest

Where there's no scent of mother, but only a sweet sense of comfort in the touch I remember the warmth of my mother's lap

Under the winter sun's soft touch.

Once the smoke rising from burning hay

The sun swallowing its light to stay 

Spreading its glow across the sky

Filling the fields where we'd laugh and lie

That light would bring us all together 

Around the fire— 

Farmers, elders, children 

All colored by the sun's soft hue 

It healed our bodies, soothed our minds

And gave us hope of many kinds. 

Such a light once brightened our small town

A glow that lifted every frown

Even today, that light still touches me

But the joy it once brought is hard to see The smell of hay, those mornings

bright  Are gone, like the sun at night

Now, only memories fill my heart The city sun, so sharp and bright But give me a reserved kiss

Still I see the warmth in it that's lost.

Razia Akter is a fourth year student at the Department of English at Bangladesh University of Professionals (BUP).