She measures height
how far she’s come
this magic-bean baby
playing with theories of relativity
not saying but wondering
'When will I catch up?'
in the ways of sisters,
measuring the timber of rivalry
against me;
but she’s come far
from cradle to crawl
stumble to sprint
from lift-me-up
to ‘I will reach your shoulder soon’;
come night, though
she turns into baby
takes womb-shape
and I can't stop kissing
this made-for-love girl.
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Sending kisses to all your girls, lnr grrl
ReplyDeleteand kisses to all three of you sharon
ReplyDeleteReally enjoy your poems. I can sense what you mean. - Nilu
ReplyDeleteYou sure love your daughters, which is very nice.
ReplyDeleteDaytime devils transform into nighttime angels....when they sleep! Its the turn of my grandkids now. For the first time in a long time my 3 girls are here with their kids and its run-like-mad-round-the house time once again. Thanks for aptly articulating the thoughts of all parents in one go!
ReplyDeleteGood to see you commenting again, Malinda.
ReplyDeleteAppreciated!