Wednesday, August 08, 2012

The Gift


Get me moon, the child pointed
As a birthday, gift no less
Imagine my surprise, as I had too
And received a round, idly instead

Get me star, when child had cried
His mother rushed, to kitchen instead
Got him barfi, a star-shaped pretty
With a shiny, twinkling foil

Get me sun, when child would  insist
Give him laddu, is what I suggest
Make him open, that big round mouth
Stuff in laddu, golden and round

In the smallest things, the child finds mirth
Be it water, the light or dirt
Come play with me, parent of mine
For this was Life, he seems to remind

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