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).