LITTLE UNNI

Usually I see
Often and all day I see;
The mother calling Unni, ‘here’
Through my window panes.

‘If I were Unni’, I think ,
From the bondage of age,
Out to Unni’s little world,
In the small home, there,
Across the trees and soft grass;
Only owned by little Unni.
Running carefully with mother after
After every little mischief and
Before every little meal.

If not seen, I listen
To his little sound and silly jokes
From inside his little home;

To be always, with my little Unni.