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Adiela
Through a mother's eyes the little things are spied of a little girl, who cuddles her dolls and cannot hear her mamma's calls
She's made of sugar and spice
and all things nice
and stays awake with me
heedless of how late it may be
With tiny hands and tousled hair
she says her prayers for Allah to hear
saying, 'Bless Mummy and Daddy
and never keep them sad'
Of the world's troubles she is unaware
but can tell me what she wants to wear
She is only three
yet more advanced she has to be
And someday, she too will write with pride of her little girl of three
My mum, Soraya, wrote poetry and wrote this poem when I was three
I could not find a pic of me at three, so used one from my second birthday