The childish acts
Made me look weird
But
I was deriving joy
With the toddlers near.
When
They stroke a blow high
Figuring a sixer
I jumped higher
Catching the ball
In my hold
Declaring them a bold.
They swarmed around me
Buzzing
Accusing me
Of cheating them
When
They couldn’t make a score.
I wasn’t fooling them
Only
I was taller than
These tiny tots
My bigger figure
Caught it in the air
And
They couldn’t compete
They were small kids.
I knew very well
But
I derived happiness
Watching
In amusement
The small innocent faces
Making
Typical curves & pouts
And
It took me
Into the memories of the past
When
We too were chased
By the elders of family
Who rejoiced
When we lost the innings
Today
I was repeating the same act
Been weird with weirdness.
© Ila Varma March 2016
4 replies on “Weird with weirdness”
I've seen those faces. Wonderful poem!
I can picture the pouts and frowns!
Thanks for the like
Thanks for the like