Like no other.. My Sister

Her wardrobe is where I love to steal from,
Though i have dozens of my own to wear,
There's definitely no feeling that's more amazing,
Than wearing her clothes when she's not there.
But nay, she just seems to have this knack,
Of knowing exactly what i did behind her back.
No matter what stories i try to cook and tell,
She sees through them all, she just knows me too well.

Many world wars we've fought, many treaties signed;
and till date, we fight, just to unwind.
I'm forever that little pesky paramecium,
glued onto her like paper on gum.

Bike rides with her, sprawling every street,
Chit chat, a munchy, jughead special for treat.
Not once, not twice, but every single time
She hums that tune right out of my head, that rhyme.

My partner in music, our voices together.
The shrills and frills interspersed with one another.
In unison we sound as one and not two,
She has been the music of my song all through.

Completely cuckoo, cracked and pretty much insane.
Otherwise has a no nonsense air, overflowing with brain.
Miss. Georgia, she is, with all modesty standing tall,
If elegance is an attitude, Sindhu defines them all.... <3 <3 <3

With bags, buckets and sacks of love,
virus: varsha :D :D