31 day poem Day 8

Here is Day 8 of the 31 day poem I have started writing for my 3 and 1/2 year old brother.

So, as per the challenge, created by Maja, from the Business in Rhyme, I will write 3 stanzas each day of December, as part of One poem.

Two messy hands,

And one toothy grin,

My world’s sunshine.


Run around my love,

The world is yours,

And you are my world.


Never fear, my baby,

New horizons, or new people,

For your sister holds your hand.


The memory is etched, 

Of the first time I held you, 

And felt so rich.


In my arms there was, 

2.6kgs of joy, 

bundled in a cloth. 


“Your brother has arrived”, 

The doctor announced, and I heard, 

Your serenading cry, the first time.


First smile, first laugh, 

And oh so many firsts!

I was euphoric.


Amma”, I called out to her merrily,

“He has pooped for the first time”

She rolled her eyes.


You slept peacefully,

As we all became owls,

To feed you at night.


3 a.m in the morning,

Was your playtime,

You are the king of the house.


Serenading cry soon became,

An annoying one,

As you cried all day.


Sleepy zombies roamed the house,

We were crankier than you,

Cyclone of emotions.


Shoes went missing,

Newspapers strewn all over the room,

Our house resembled a battlefield.


Toys were thrown,

And my cosmetics too,

From the balcony to the ground.


Our phones went straight inside the toilet,

Air tickets were torn,

As you took your baby steps around the house!


Every storm you went through,

Had passed through me too,

I suffered your pain.


Each fever you had,

Adorned my forehead,

With beads of sweat.


I’d then fight with the Silent One above,

To not harass you so,

A prayer drowned in tears.


And yet your first year passed,

In a poignant way,

Turmoil left irremediable scars.


Oh! the tumultuous first year,

The year we gained one life,

And lost another.


As our paati sailed to the heavens,

Voices splattered blames at us,

Bereft of condolence.


But your smile was like the warmth,

Of the streaks of sunlight,

On a biting cold winter day.


You were the solace,

To the fresh wounds,

A remedy to all our pains.


The lost mirth would return,

As you wet your clothes,

And ours too!

[ For more info on this 31day poem challenge, visit here ]


Amma = Mother, Paati = Grandmother }


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