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Pritha Jul 2013
Your soft breeze rustles through my hair,
As my senses become a little more aware.
Enraptured I am by your gray skies,
And into a wanton land, my heart flies.
You terrorize me with winds unknown,
And watch me revel in those forbidden joys alone.
You tease and tantalize with sparks of fire
And torment me with an unspoken desire.
You wait in patience as you watch my stance
And laugh too at this heady romance.
At last,  you give in with a sensuous frown,
And as the rain soaks me, in you I drown.
(Afternoon musings as the skies and the earth engaged in the most beautiful foreplay before the rains…)
Pritha Jul 2013
It’s ok if the laundry pile is now, a little mountain on the floor,

And it’s totally fine if crayons have created a Monet on the front door.

It’s super cool if the car smells of long forgotten meals,

And sometimes, a missing child can only be located through high-pitched squeals!

It’s ok to have lampshade hair when you drop your child off to school

And don’t worry if folks think, your legs are not shaved enough for the pool.

So what if the little black dress is a stitch too tight,

And those oh-so-white lace napkins are a strange creamy delight.

Ice cream on the counter top or coins in the sink,

The child is only “learning”, say it to yourself with a wink.

If tattoos are the only thing you see when the first “date” comes home,

Breathe a little deeper, and then go rent some chick flick about Rome.

So sit back, relax, celebrate yourself, and know perfection is a thing of the past,

Being yourself and a “fabulously ordinary” mom is what will truly outlast!
( Written on Mothers Day 2013 )

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