Discerning Eye (To My Daughter Prudence Ntinyari) Poem by Mauta Thuranira Peter

Discerning Eye (To My Daughter Prudence Ntinyari)



1.The best poets never wrote,
Critics of poetry know no rhyme.
To all those I am well instructed.
I write neither prose nor poetry,
But a song to my daughter cries.

2. A new day, a new experience,
Mum has to go work, dad, daughter,
And son gotta hit the road.
An hour is gone, dad is yet to stir!
Ian is edgy, but your 3 years Carry
Some wisdom!
I write neither prose nor poetry,
But a song to my daughter cries out.

3. Its 8.AM, and you think dad is dreaming,
You ask bro what is a museum,
He says wake dad up you go and see!
Like the righteous Job among his
Friends, dad is always right.
If not today, only dad knows the way.
Always the human rights defender,
Your dad is safe.
I write neither prose nor poetry,
But a song to my daughter cries out.

4. Like father, like son, nothing is impossible!
Your bro is soon on my neck.
Its 9. AM, somebody is shaking me,
My hangover infested head cries for a reprieve,
But with your brother, My son, I am caged.
Ian brags he can bathe himself, yet his plan,
Both your forbears know well.
Hands, face, legs then voila!
He Steps out a clean man.
I write neither prose nor poetry,
But a song to my daughter cries out.

5. Once we are set to go, your mother
In you cry out,
Dad cannot go without socks,
And Ian is on your neck.
Every nook and cranny, and no single
Wearable pair.
Your 3 years knows no better,
I never saw a hangover head think straight,
Ian grins like the small tiger he is!
Nobody thinks of the clothesline, and to you,
A clean pair of socks or museum can wait.
Critics of poetry are failed writers, write yours
And suffer no more!

6. A wise son is a joy to his father,
The other part readers of the word know.
Your brother has a solution, and the road we hit.
As I fitted the new pair in the at the
Matatu terminus,
Your discerning eyes bore into me accusingly,
And with a sweet infectious smile,
You said words which will forever remain in my heart.
"Now that you lost the last pair dad, Kindly take care of these"
You never saw the tear or two I shed, your 3 year
Wisdom had surpassed my heart.
I religiously follow your wish, and that worn out
pair will be your wedding gift.
Hope you enjoyed your day out,
But its mzee kobe not Kabe!
I write neither prose nor poetry,
but a song to my daughter cries out

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
I wrote this poem after a lost pair of socks incident when I was preparing to take my 6 year old son and 3 year old daughter our.
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