You run around the floor.
You knock on the nursery door.
Your rattle being dragged from a dirty mouth.
Your baby garments dragged on the floor.
You're the baby I asked to be born.
You hold your milk bottle at a slant.
Your drool is the most innocent,
You do.
Baby, sweet pea,
You are near and dear to me.
You are a love's epitomy.
But baby from my arms,
Don't flee.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem