Little Baby MockingbirdMature

This poem is dedicated to my niece, who has recently turned 6 months old. Now that I'm living with my aunt, I see her almost every day after school, and each time I fall further and further in love.
She's just starting to squeak and giggle, and when I was playing peek-a-boo with her teddy bear, she giggled at me for the first time. I wanted to cry, I realised how fast she's growing, in light of that, I wrote this for her.

For Esme

How can you be so perfect,

Mockingbird, sitting next to me?

You are what I must protect, 

From the dangers you cannot see. 

You see only enchantment, 

Through curious blue eyes you view,

Your growing wings we prevent,

For as long as the world remains new.

...

I know you won't always be like this, 

They say they grow quickly, and then they are gone, 

So will I look back and reminisce,

About the mockingbird, that became a swan?

...

After you've taken those first steps,

Will you pack up, will you run away?

And after you've said your first words,

Will you tell me you're too old to play?

As school ends and I stand at the gate,

To my arms will you hurry or remain?

When you tell me I am what you hate,

 Will your door be locked with a chain?

 And you yell in f**king frustration,

Because we never seem to understand,

Then you wait in anticipation,

You're running towards a future unplanned.

Unravel your wings when you're ready,

There's no rush, we have all the time to spare,

You say it's time, the wind is steady,

No, not yet, I need more time to prepare.

For always I shall love you,

How you are I'll never forget,

Oh mockingbird I beg you,

Don't fly away, not now, not yet.

The End

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