My publisher asked me whether I could write some children’s poems. I took up the challenge. I would be grateful if you could comment on whether they fit that age-group.

Boy with a kite

1. Teeth

Smile, Laugh, Cry, 
Dance for the sake of dancing,
Sing for the song is
On the tip of your tongue,
Cry, every time you fall,
Rise, just because you can. Smile
Because, you will sell your teeth,
To the tooth fairy, while
Accepting your first bribe.

2. Child

Between the seed
And the shoot,
Lies the stem, bathed
In rainwater, lit by the sun,
While children,
Grow taller by the day,
Like the sun-seeking shoot,
Unlike an adult,
Who grows fatter,
By the meal.

3. Pregnant

A child, touches his mother’s belly,
And wonders, what could it hide.
While suspecting that his Dad,
Has been trying to prick,
With a pin, the mighty balloon,
Through her now visibly,
Swelled up, navel button.

4. Fireflies

The little flies
As small as the house fly,
Shimmering brightly under a shiny moon.
As a little child chases those little fire flies,
The brightness of his eyes,
No match for the fire flies,
Going to and fro, beautifying
Not just the darkest night,
But also what lies
On the other side
Of the human eye.

5. Space

The unknown
The unscripted
The dream maker.
How a little child
Looks at the vast skyline
And wonders,
Under which star,
Does God hide?

6. A Children’s Poem

A little frame, starry eyed,
Who looks at two jet black backgrounds,
The night sky sponsoring
The moon and the stars
Through his little black eyes,
While on a blackboard,
Little pieces of chalk,
Script constellations,
Of flickering words.

7. The Kite

The kite stood in hand
While eakles became a shape,
Pasted with colored paper,
How the wind gifts life to a toy;
How she dances and dances,
While two hearts, that of child
And of toy, beat louder and stronger,
While the runner runs and runs,
The kite following him like his shadow.
How beautiful not knowing,
That the wall clock is ticking,
Or what lies beneath his feet,
Only gazing at the cartwheels of a toy,
Turning head over heels,
And this bond – child and toy –
Isn’t that the first love?

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