Sheldon, I beg your pardon;
You are yet a baby,
four or five, as my grandson,
just four
who has no difficulty
to switch over accents
to suit situations and the listener
to pronounce his name ‘ekash'
and translate into his native tongue
as ‘akash'
but who needs coaxing and cajoling
to make him brush the teeth,
eat the breakfast and
to make do things
he would otherwise dodge,
to invoke your name
as Sheldon the bad boy
who never does a thing right,
who I know is friend to him
but with whom he quarrels
over the lost and found toys,
over perceived cheating games
while playing ‘Robber & Police' or
‘Hide & Seek'
but always insists on
sitting on the same chair
hugged together
and certify the good boy Akash
who does everything right.
You are my saviour,
Sheldon the bad boy
who I know
is no bad boy at all.
Sheldon, I beg your pardon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Getting into the mind of a child, , , , , , , analysing his thoughts......... writing about it in a with a psychological intuition......... this is this poem...... loved your poem respected poet. tony