Toys In My Shelf
I see the mild breeze coming through my windows moving the curtain of my shelf;
There lie all the toys which I have brought with loads of love for my unborn child; Will the soft fingers of my child ever caress the toys which have remained undisturbed yet?
What meaning and purpose do they have until his tiny heart jumps with joy when he sees them all set?
I see rooms which are neat and decorated, but what merry is there unless my little tramp messes it all with his zest?