Oh Son! My Sun!
My champ your birth, gave me unbounded mirth.
With you, Papa and Mamma are devoid of any dearth.
My boy, you're such a joy,
Prior to you, I used Braille, for the ‘E' of enjoy.
My baby your sublime succulence,
Gives me alpine opulence.
My tiny toy, you're so soft and supple,
Dad is always left, musing in ample.
My child, at your slightest smile, erupts every follicle,
Quenching the thirst, of my every atom and particle.
My love, at your faintest sobbing,
Daddy's auricles and ventricles explode of throbbing.
My seraph, you're my Shakespearean sonnet,
Dad goes crazy, seeing you in that cute little bonnet.
My boy, your lovely squiggles,
Are Scriptures, engraved in elegant scribbles.
My child, when you hit a tune, a bit too jazzy,
Your Papa drools, to be your avid paparazzi.
Cometh the Day, when thou wilt be Chaucer,
Thy father will, love to be thy chauffeur.
Oh Son! My Sun!

by Vishal Singh

Other poems of SINGH (2)

Comments (1)

wow i never knew such fine poetry could be written about a sprinkler