The Mother In Me

I never believed in love at first sight until I saw him.
He was taking a siesta when I saw him for the first time,
Peacefully sleeping without knowing how many admirers he had.
He might have known if he had opened his eyes for a tad.
He was dressed in Citron colored fabric,
And I felt my heart skipping a beat from being rhythmic.
I held out my hand to reach his cheek,
Which twitched before I could give him a peck.
And I stood stealing glance at his face, moon-alike,
That shone brightly among all the swarming public.
I awaited for a week to see him, by and by,
The one that stole my heart within the blink of an eye.
The day arrived, and I saw him dressed in pink,
Same as the color of his chubby cheeks.
And for the first time, I carried him in my arm;
He placed his chin on my shoulder, gentle and warm.
The fragrance of his baby soft disheveled hair
Proliferated all around in the air.
Our eyes met as he delivered his toothless smirk,
And he let oodles of his spittle gleek.
With a burdened heart I handed him over to his mother,
And I felt a rush of emotions inside me, a shake, a wuther.
My anticipations to see that little brat again, is still the same;
Nowadays I am seeing a mother in me, inside this young dame.

Dedicated to little boy Jeshurun.