Baby Brother

A poem I wrote before I had children.

Is this my little baby brother?

I think I’d better ask my Mother.

For I am dark and he is fair,

I have brown curls,

He has straight hair.

My eyes are brown

And his are blue.

I’ve many teeth

And he has two.

——————-

Can I be sure this is my brother?

Not a sibling of another?

Did you find him in the street

And take him home for me to meet?

Thinking that I’d share with him

And play with him and care for him

And brush his downy hair for him?

Please return him to his lender

Note attached, ‘Return to sender’

Keep him happy,

Not to mention,

Pay him lots of close attention.

For he will dribble on your chairs,

Pull your hair and chew your stairs.

Cry a lot

And sleep a lot.

Laugh out loud when you are not.

Drop his food and make a puddle

Putting Mummy in a muddle.

—————–

But when he’s resting, fast asleep,

I go upstairs to have a peep.

He’s like an angel lying there,

With glowing skin and wispy hair.

My little brother, you can stay.

Just for a while, just one more day.

And if you’re good and smart and clever,

We may just keep you here forever.

xx

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New Blue Hair

Everyone remembers

The day Judy dyed her hair.

She wept for forty days,

To see her out would be quite rare.

————————–

She put her hair in rollers,

She tried gels and mousses too.

She used clips and bands and hair slides

But her hair still looked quite blue.

—————————–

But then she stepped outside

Because at last she did not care

And everybody gasped with glee,

“We LOVE your new blue hair!”