And for the last few weeks I have been drafting a bit of a philosophical post, questioning all sorts of things and meanings of life and why we are here etc etc etc.
It is not finished.
But for now, here is a poem my mum wrote a couple of weeks ago. Mums are cool :)
FOR HAZEL’S BIRTHDAY
Our Small is turning 30 in a while
And in those three decades how much she’s done
And ev’rything she does, she does with style
Like study, travel, work and having fun
Degrees she has with honours and first class.
America has seen her and Taiwan
In Thailand she saw Buddhas made of brass
Our Small is turning 30 in a while
And in those three decades how much she’s done
And ev’rything she does, she does with style
Like study, travel, work and having fun
Degrees she has with honours and first class.
America has seen her and Taiwan
In Thailand she saw Buddhas made of brass
And rode an elephant like Genghis Khan.
No verses about Hazel are complete
Without a mention of a certain cat
Who’s mostly black with white on chest and feet
And often joins us for our tea and chat.
Haze makes us laugh and entertains us too
And someone, very proud, is saying “Boo!”
No verses about Hazel are complete
Without a mention of a certain cat
Who’s mostly black with white on chest and feet
And often joins us for our tea and chat.
Haze makes us laugh and entertains us too
And someone, very proud, is saying “Boo!”
