Brown specs on eyes,There on the rocking chair,
You usually read the news,Brushing your black-grey hair.
Sipping a cup of tea,You waited for the breakfast,
And tried to wake me up,Which was a morning fuss.
Chanting my name,Thousand times a day,
Bring me a pencil,screw or nut,Was what you used to say.
Painting your face in green and blue,And colors which are very rare,
As you woke in the morning hue,The mirror would make you scare.
Request for movies,parks and restaurants,Were some of my daily affairs,
You were there to take me out,Even if no one cared.
You were the one who taught me how,To make the first cup of tea in my life,
And after every cup you were the one,Who gifted me a penny or five.
I really miss those days,When i was little kid,
Because there were so many things,Which we together did.
The countless activities included,Tons and tons of funny things,
Shall we remember each day,On the face it happiness brings...
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 8:17 AM UTC
Brown specs on eyes,There on the rocking chair,
You usually read the news,Brushing your black-grey hair.
Sipping a cup of tea,You waited for the breakfast,
And tried to wake me up,Which was a morning fuss.
Chanting my name,Thousand times a day,
Bring me a pencil,screw or nut,Was what you used to say.
Painting your face in green and blue,And colors which are very rare,
As you woke in the morning hue,The mirror would make you scare.
Request for movies,parks and restaurants,Were some of my daily affairs,
You were there to take me out,Even if no one cared.
You were the one who taught me how,To make the first cup of tea in my life,
And after every cup you were the one,Who gifted me a penny or five.
I really miss those days,When i was little kid,
Because there were so many things,Which we together did.
The countless activities included,Tons and tons of funny things,
Shall we remember each day,On the face it happiness brings...
A poem dedicated to my grandpa on his 75th b'day.
