The Apple of My Eyes

a poem by Sheela Chalapathi ramananda, India

She is such a cute little thing,
But what to do,she keeps quarelling.

She is the apple of my eyes,
Her boistrous nature is my diet's spice.

When on a cloudy day,my spirits are low,
Like the sun peeping through,she brings a glow.

When she is there,nothing else will matter,
As she fills the place with a bubbly chatter.

But when she is gone for a few days,
Everything is dull and I sit with a sad face.

Whom do you think I am talking about dear?
She is my lovely,lovely daughter!

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