You run around the floor.
You knock on the nursery door.
Your rattle being dragged from a dirty mouth.
Your baby garments dragged on the floor.
You're the baby I asked to be born.
You hold your milk bottle at a slant.
Your drool is the most innocent,
Baby, sweet pea,
You are near and dear to me.
You are a love's epitomy.
But baby from my arms,
Comments about this poem (Sweet Pea by Vera Sidhwa )
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