Twinkle twinkle little dream, my little dream [...], Give me a shooting star, and I’ll make a wish, I’ll make a wish for you. - Paloma Faith, Stargazer.

I am not a sentimental person. Anyone who knows me will confirm this, however, I am about to publish the first poem I have written in a long time, which, just so happens to be born out of pure sentimentality. It's about the tinniest little human in my life who, to begin with I wasn't too thrilled about if I'm honest. But I can't imagine life with out my little sister now, I love her to bits, she is a constant source of cuteness, fascination, simple uncomplicated love and humour.

Anyways gooeyness over as I said before I think this is the first poem I've attempted to write in about three years, so I'm more than a little bit rusty. (Which considering I was rusty to begin with, is a lot rusty). The poem is not in it's final stage yet and some bits are still a bit clumsy but here goes.

Eva- Rose <3

Today you discovered your hands.

Six months old. You sat with both hands raised as
If in meditation. And stared at them with wonder.
Awe. Confusion. (What?).
Your small exhale, your mouth the perfect round
Button hole, as you looked up at me.
The dot underneath the exclamation mark.

Your mind is as impenetrable to me
as a cat’s blank stare. Your un-self conscious
babble. You laugh at the strangest things.
A banging hammer. The awkward, long
Haired boy on the bus.

You’ll be crawling soon. I watch you
As you struggle on the floor. First raising up
Onto your knees. Then resting on your elbows,
Belly on the floor, feet kicking.
Not yet putting two and two together.

I entreat you to grow up. Talk to me,
reveal to me your innermost thoughts
and secrets. Reveal to me the person
you will become. I urge you stay small.
The charming little mystery that you are.

Six months. Such a small amount of life. But,
To me you seem eternal.
Was there really a time before you

Little immortal?
You do not yet know your own powers to heal.
A mind blurred by sadness. You
gave focus. A relationship, like a guttering
Candle, diminishing. You
reignited life and love.
But these are discoveries for later.

For today is the day you discovered your hands.

x