(escapril, day 14: make it rhyme)

The baby on my lap chirps and squirms,

Limbs flailing outwards, up down and around.

Writhing and wriggling like a regular can of worms.

I struggle to keep her from tumbling to the ground.

But then-dinner arrives!

Her appetite dwarfs her stature so small.

She grabs at hot dogs and pizza and fries,

Chortling at her bounteous haul.

Grease smeared all over from her toes to her eyes.

In all the mess and the clamor,

Little attention does she need to demand.

Now an angel with the calmest manner,

Perfectly happy with her hot dog in hand.