so there you are in <br />your pram or kiddikarria <br />nicely tucked up, <br />being talked to in that <br />singysongylingo <br />that grown-ups grow down to <br /> <br />when that tingylingy, like <br />that stoopid thingy <br />dangling on your cot that <br />doesn't do anything else <br />goes hissdidahdidah <br />and she switches her attention instantly <br />from who's mommy's little treasure then, <br />sticks this silver thing to block her ear <br />and starts talking to thin air <br /> <br />it must be either the fairies <br />who don't seem to be very helpful - <br />'oh darling don't say you forgot I <br />asked you specially...' <br />or she's going doolally and <br />the adult world's not <br />what it's cracked up to be <br />I'll give her two minutes no more <br />or else<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/baby-love-maybe-love/
