Friday, 25 April 2014

Pipe Dream

Oh Baby, why you tousle my hair
You may get hurt, take care
Thank God for the precious gift
Tender fingers tingle me to lift
A spitting image of your father
We ‘re here, don’t bother
A dimple on your cheek
Without you my life ‘d ‘ve been so bleak
I never beckon the moon to bring flowers
But I know you may grow as liberal as showers
‘An upright man’, they say with an awe
‘How could you bring him up with no flaw?’
Will you make an actor non pareil?
Or be a mystery that none can unravel
‘Charisma’ attracts many under your spell
Unique is thy merit that others never excel
Neither I go soppy to wish these
Nor let me call censor to remove sleaze
‘Proud’ to be the son of mothers
Whose welcome cheers don’t down the shutters.

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