Posted in Mother, Uncategorized

Narcissus

Dresses don’t thrill me as before,
Money doesn’t matter to me,
Parents became second priority,
All I see is him every minute.

His eternal beauty amazes me,
My heart flutters at his smile,
The same is when he is otherwise,
Everything he says is funny to me.

I laugh and laugh at his tantrum,
Oh! am I becoming mad in love,
Let me not become Narcissus,
Who atlast turned into a flower!

Kavitha Patchamalai

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Posted in Mother

Resignation

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When I typed my resignation,
His thoughts filled my mind,
Imagining all ways possible,
To spend my time with him.

Have no regrets at all till now,
As I play, laugh,hug, kiss,
And spend my time loving him,
Compensating the lost days!

Having thrown the money away,
My presence is gold and diamonds,
That can never be bargained,
Precious days filled with love!

Kavitha Patchamalai

Posted in Daily Prompt, love, Mother, Poem, Poetry, The Daily Post

Butterflies in My Tummy

Worthy is the butterflies,
That kept reminding me of you.
Often you tickle and move,
That amazed me all day long.
Never got tired of you,
For I was waiting for you.
A hidden beautiful treasure I would say,
For you are a surprise gift to me.
Wished when I would hold you,
And feel your warmth.
Days rolled by making me wait,
Long were the days that never ended.
To wake you up, I would touch my belly,
Soon you would respond with butterflies.
Felt so lucky to be a woman,
To keep you safe and hidden.
Our umbilical cords were tied so tight,
Will eternally stay tied.

Posted in Daily Prompt, love, Mother, Poem, Poetry, The Daily Post

Life, a Battle Field

Cutie pie stepped into the school,
For he is all grown to be schooled.
Stood so tall out of the crowd,
But our hearts were too heavy to handle.
Calm was he with the other kids,
But our hearts felt so weak and funny.
There came the call from the school,
That he started crying for us.
Quick we reached to see him sob,
Took him with us as if lost and found.
Looked like a candy to me,
For he is the apple to his father’s eyes.
Poor is the heart that beats for him,
I wonder how to cope up with the rest.
The world is too wicked to handle,
As it is corrupted to the core.
Soft is he like a flower on the road,
As the road may not be smooth and even.
Now I know the purpose of life,
Is to prepare him for the life battle.