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Between Sunrise and sunset

The awesomeness of humanity
Began from the flexibility
And the diversity of balloons
Though it needs a form of sun like moon
In a form of masculinity
Shaded in various diversities
None can overlook the day it lit
And how an infant actually fits.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Hazel’s Diary: 3months old

Blood can never be broken nor bent by any pandemic
In you is the gene that can not be mimicked
By Tom, Dick and Harry or mere platonic…

Like larvas metamorphoses to butterflies
It is indeed so beautiful how fast time flies
Seems as if you grow every time I blink my eyes

Soon you will no longer crave for mom’s breast milk
A big girl from a version of great microcosmic
I can’t wait to see you become a classic chic.

Through the Aisle, to bearing children of my link
But today you are three months old still sucking milk
As my tender replica, mirror image and palindromic

I couldn’t have chosen a better first fruit other than you
Together we will go on adventures when the time is due
Intriguingly exciting they are to be, that I promise you.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Hazel’s diary: Dad’s duplicate

I lay awake on the bed
Watching Hazel’s shape of head
And how the soft spot appear
Just like ripe Avocado pear

Her brain must be versatile
Though she looks small and fragile
Her strength is seen in her eyes
Frozen but she still melts an ice

And each time I look at her
I see me deep inside her
She is my other copy
Far better than all jewelries.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Do babies cry in the womb?

From a touch, to a mass
The belly pot then grows…
From a kick, to a stretch
The fetus, summersaults
Inside the womb, it learns
To suck and hold its toes

The heartbeats awesomely
Drumming like heaven sounds
The early form of life
Is intriguing to watch
Soon, the nine months is done
Push, push… hallelujah

Baby arrives and cry
Only language they learnt
Have you ever wondered
Why a baby outside
Would spend all day crying
But not so, in the womb?

What would be of mother
When baby cry from under?
Do they cry silently?
I want to know, because
The wisdom of the Lord
Is truly amazing.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Womb Prose: Talking to baby

Many kicks, many pains to battle
Mummy complains; “please be gentle”.

You make me beat my chest; “am the man”
You are my future number one plan.

Lemme go on to catch a grenade;
Love I got for you will never fade…

Allow good genes translates sweet berries
A future without you is barren…

Can’t wait to hear you call me daddy
Call mummy too, she is gladden.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Womb Prose: Rays of Beams

Do you sleep while you tumble
Do you kick when you struggle
Is the sack getting smaller
Is the fluid getting lighter….

We will not let you wobble
You are our fun and bubbles
Is it now getting darker
Or are you feeling fever…

There is a bridge joining ends
Rainbow color, perfect blends
The mouths to sing the sweet hymn
Your womb escape is our theme…

Saw your curl through ultrasound
Heard your heartbeats drumming loud
You completed the tag team
You took our rays as your beam.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Womb Prose: Axle Sonnet

Mum missed her visitor for a week
Then first trimester came in so quick.

Although with vomiting and fever
Not your fault, so don’t you bother.

Daddy can’t wait to hold your arms
Tiny five fingers and cradle charms.

You are the gift that completes his pack
Your cool heartbeat kept pulling him back.

So intrigued at your mother’s big round pot;
The new sweet look that she did begot

Gaining weight and looking beautiful
Although in pains, till day she births you.

Mummy can’t wait to push the axles
So prepare for contracting muscles.

©2019 http://Vinzpoetry.WordPress.Com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Womb Prose: Man’s gift and joy

Children are gifts
and a joy to man
Growing in the womb
like plants in farm.

Stretching they kick
walls of mother’s sack
Their echoing heartbeats
pulls daddy back.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Womb Prose: Kicking bumps

I love to feel your kicking limbs
There goes my hands, to hold and climb
I will like to know what you think
I love you dearly, let it sink..

I bet your world is full of thrills
Worry not of the future bills,
I do not mind looking unkempt
Just to make sure, you are alright.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Sonnets: Sucking her breast

When a mother carries her child
She carries him like a treasure found.

Picture me, giggling, all that time
When I was little; yes, she is mine.

Restless I was, guess she knew it
Hence, she striped herself so I have it

Private and public demands; ah
Was I a child who abash her?

No pride in starvation, I guess
Why sit on my tod as does the guests?

Pinching jaws, my claws meant no harm
On my bottom, resting on her arms

Against her breast, I couldn’t buck
As a baby, all her milk I sucked.

©2019 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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