Joy of the mother
Becomes highly spirited in expectation
Moody in the joyest moment of life
Held by the threshold of delight
Eventually.
Aha! the shrill cry
In cosmic rays
Resounding ones and ones again
Breathes to limelight
The fresh and fresh
Into the magnetic influx
Of politics, Economics and cultures of life
Like hugs of cronies
O! the shrill cry again
Adoring the mother’s face
To an affectionate smile
Revealing the glittering
Toils of glued egg-heads
Reaching out to dearie quest
Of cosmopolitcan persons
Not allowing it to slip
Like the rains seeping through the
soil
Lets toast to the cinderella of
yesters
She’s freshly so fresh
Ah! looking chunky and firm
Ready to root up tare
That’s that on a platter of GOLD
christened ‘Citizen
Panned out of a sparkling golden-egg
O! O! O! the shrill cry again
C-I-T-I-Z-E-N!!!
JOY of all — Bon Joyage chum.