I stared into those becoming eyes,
Little pools of water are they,
Ensconced in a radiant face,
The most beautiful thing, on any given day.
I sat, and regaled that jolly laugh,
My indulgence almost does me blight.
I can't help but stare at that face,
Such beauty, is indeed a very rare sight.
Her hands delicately clasp mine,
As if, theres something that has to be said.
But, no words emanate from her,
And I continue admiring those cheeks so red.
That nose would give Cleopatra a run
For her money, and thats true.
That voice is comparable to a certain Miss Lata,
The feeling I am having is most certainly new.
She coos so gently into my ear,
When I grab that delicate hand of hers.
Her sweet scent hits me then,
My heart suddenly, out of its stupor, stirs.
“The most beautiful thing in the world is she”
Of that theres no doubt,
If the reasons above ain't enough,
“Shes my six month old niece,” and now no one will shout.