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.
No comments:
Post a Comment