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Sonnets: Gazing at the running child

Like the experience of tranquil and peace
Underneath water. My love for the kids
Is appealing and so satisfactory.

I confide with their harmless innocence
Oh my… oh my, where do babies come from,
A thousand toys and gadgets on the floor
Colors the room with such innocence.

Kettles from the fire waters the cereals
I picked up a spoon, to feed a baby
But with tender feet of low stamina
In flashes of light, tittering and giggling

Completing ten strides in just one second,
Round and round the room the little one runs;
They are the mirrors, that shows am aging.

©2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

A trace of wrinkle

The young shall grow; I will say
When I recall the moments of clay
The big ones played some time ago;
Oh sweet memories, never let go.

These tall trees were once little
I didn’t plant, but my small kettles
Watered stems and roots till they grew
Their true reflections, I always knew…

Rewinding time, I had no hairs on jaws
And for fun, ignorantly I broke laws
Precision, I describe all smells in air
At the mirror, breeze blew my grey hairs…

Spilling my candies and sprinkles
Then I saw a trace of wrinkle;
I watched many kids grow in time
Funny how I skipped noticing mine.

©2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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