Pritha's pomes

Some rhyme, romance and a wee bit reason maybe, bear with me ?


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Shadow Dreams

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One night I dreamed, I was walking with you on the green grass
Many little stories you shared in your continuous chatter,
In each story you held my hand,
Or maybe it was I, who held yours.

I could never tell the difference but I recall, each time,
You heard a sound you were unfamiliar with,
Or saw a bug or a bee wander too close,
You raised your arms and I picked you up.

Years from now as I will read this, I will wonder though of one thing,
No matter how pretty our shoes and how straight our gait,
It wasn’t I who took that first step,
No it was you, my darling child,
… and I just followed along.

 

 

( When shadows tell a tale, you have to pause and listen, even if it is only in a dream. The words were inspired by Mary Stevenson’s famous Footprints)


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To the “fabulously ordinary” mom…

It’s ok if the laundry pile is now, a little mountain on the floor,

And it’s totally fine if crayons have created a Monet on the front door.

It’s super cool if the car smells of long forgotten meals,

And sometimes, a missing child can only be located through high-pitched squeals!

It’s ok to have lampshade hair when you drop your child off to school

And don’t worry if folks think, your legs are not shaved enough for the pool.

So what if the little black dress is a stitch too tight,

And those oh-so-white lace napkins are a strange creamy delight.

Ice cream on the counter top or coins in the sink,

The child is only “learning”, say it to yourself with a wink.

If tattoos are the only thing you see when the first “date” comes home,

Breathe a little deeper, and then go rent some chick flick about Rome.

So sit back, relax, celebrate yourself, and know perfection is a thing of the past,

Being yourself and a “fabulously ordinary” mom is what will truly outlast!

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A Mother’s Wish…

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a painting...

Doe eyed and beautiful, your soft glance
Endearing and enduring, your little stance.
Mesmerized, you watch fairy tales unfold,
Awestruck, you are, by all the little stories told.

I wish you innocence in your vision of the world
I wish you wisdom as each of its chapters unfurl

I wish you kindness to give and not just receive
I wish you patience for the moments that make you heave

I wish you love, the kind that opens your soul.
A heartache or two that makes you whole.

Doe eyed and beautiful, may your soft glance always endear
Mesmerized, may you watch life’s chapters without fear
Awestruck, may you be, by the power of your own heart
May you finish with grace, every journey you ever start.


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windows to my soul….

No words suffice, no verses rhyme
Nothing short of a glimpse divine,
Is the guileless way you look at me,
As you lock your eyes into mine.

A myriad questions waiting to unfold
A million stories remain to be told
Yet in silence you hold me still,
In a gaze with which my heart does fill.

Your eyes reflect the tears in mine
Or seem to shine with my every smile                                                                                                                                                 Your innocent gaze unlocks my soul, so
Before you look away, please tarry a while.

Let me  find myself in your questioning stare
Let me tell you, I will always be there
Let your innocence cleanse my core
While your twinkling eyes reveal so much more..

 

( my 3 week old cannot say much without crying, she cannot really mimic actions yet or react too much and her smiles are mostly in her sleep…but if there is one thing she can do, is look straight into my eyes and see my soul… and she does that with the look that is so guileless, that you wonder, if there was a way to hold that moment in time and go back to each time you wanted to feel the beauty and magic of a child’s unquestioning love and dependance)


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Bliss

The clasp of a tiny hand, when startled by a dream,
The incredibly high pitch to let out some steam,
The funny faced grimace following a moment terse,
Your twinkling eyes, as you look up at me and show me the universe….

(a moment of reflection following an hour long conversation with my 5 day old about stuff… / lesson learnt – donot blog, philosophize or read to unborn child at weird hours of the nite while pregnant / may lead to permanent habit formation in offspring )