It was about five thirty in the morning
On tenth day of march twenty twenty
The room was cool and conducive
Gradually, the journey to dreamland
Was fading and sweeter than ever.
Our heavy windows of vision were tightly closed
Preventing even the lightest of rays
So curled up on bed tucked in bedsheets
Outside, sunrise slowly dragged its feet
As we were reluctant to rise and shine
I bet the neighbors did just the same
Till out of the blues, came Hazel’s
First ever baby blab, way far from cries
Seems she was communicating to us
Smiling and repeating herself, like records
I bet she said: “wake, the sun is here”
Though we couldn’t comprehend what she said
Words can not explain how excited we were
Hearing and watching her express herself
Waking us up for the first time at dawn.
e-Paper Poetry of Vinx 