Sunday, 1 April 2012


Little hands, tender little hands, touch me,
And life begins with little one’s tiding throws,
Through all windows of itinerary start,
The little life gives purge to build love in us.

It is soft to feel the touch in cute looks,
Little eyes play in speedy moving eyeballs,
Over the world in the morning or in the evening,
Night passes through darling dreams, tuned.

In full energy the baby shines in light,
No shadow, but countless throwing fists
To catch the air, in a trial of holding the earth,
With deep gaze into the sun’s brightness.

He is genius in our home, green is everything,
Sights of things in his sight are bright lamps,
We do gaze, he does gaze, and the difference is
He can assure us of life and light, we feel delighted in.

He hears all, make sounds of return, samples of talks,
And he gathers many experiences and expressions,
He begins life in aspirations, we are charmed,
He holds all lights in his eyes to make us bright.

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