A child is a pleasure
she is a treasure
a gift truly precious
has a smile infectious.
The smell of the newborn
when held tightly with a fawn
goes into the nostrils with a sign
it could be an enchanting bind.
The little eyes so pure and glossy
away from the worldly flossy
show an innocence in a radiance
beautifully lights up in no preference.
The bundle of joy nicely wrapped
lies between the straps
cuddled up in a feathery quilt
smiles now and then without guilt.
Nothing else could be more pleasant
the child out beats the rose and Crescent
a doll with life and enticing face
displays a toothless smile with grace
Meenas Poems 