I saw the twinkle in his eyes
As I sang the lullaby
He hardly falls asleep
But when he does, it is so deep
Unlike babes of his age
That go on midnight rampage
Crying as though the gods
Whipped mankind with iron rods
Kaima sleeps like a lamb
Wakes up at dawn, smiling and calm
I love to see him laugh
Divides all my problems in half
I love to count his teeth
Ivory white with strands of meat
I do the chewing for him
As he swallows, he will beam
And smile, then giggle
As I sing his favourite jingle
Like the jewel of the morn
Like rays of the morning sun
He shines, sprouting forth
Product of my loins, heaven's warmth
Like the dew in early harmattan
He is rare, unique, my little man
His laughter is pure joy
My infant soon became a boy
Now walking unaided, he runs
And soon learns that fire burns
He learns fast, reading voraciously
Holding the little he understood tenaciously
'Knowledge is power,' I tell him
'Fill your empty cup to the brim'
I was not surprised he could remember
Stories from books he read last December
He grew into a young, bright chap
Handsome, with brain like a map
With a sponge-like mind
He absorbs all he can find
I stepped in, of course
To separate the truth from the false
He did not make friends easily
And prefers to be left alone, usually
The few he made, he kept close
Showed everyone love, often in overdose
I taught him that a drop of honey
Catches more flies, bet money
Than a barrel of vinegar
That salt is as important as sugar
That it is better to have a good name
Than a trailer-load of fame
That the truth never dies
Though sunk in a river of lies
Soon it will surface
And take its rightful place
I taught him to be grateful for each day
That time is short, life slips away
That he can only be a child once
So he should water the land and plant his corns
That childhood is a gift
That he should save money and spend with thrift
That he should uphold the family name
And never bring us shame
That he should work hard
To become a responsible lad
That he should laugh much and oft
Because it makes the heart merry and the face soft
That it is always good to pray
Since God has the final say
That I will be there for him no matter what
Whether he turns out good or not
© Kelvin Alaneme, 2013. Follow on twitter @dr_alams.
Email: kelvinalaneme@gmail.com
1 comment:
This is the story about all the love that a parent can bestow on a child, really. Nice.
Post a Comment