Roann Mendriq

A brilliant day to fly my kite,
Where else? But on our beach!
Dad holds it fast, with all his might,
Mum hoists it out of reach!
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My Mother is not the sort of Mum
who'll squeal and faint and shiver,
Darkness doesn't scare her,
When it thunders she won't quiver!
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Granny has a laptop,
its sleek and shiny new;
She gazes at it fondly,
and wonders... what to do?
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I'll do my homework tomorrow,
I'll complete it in a flash!
I'm going swimming now,
Ma! you should see me splash!
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T'was days before Christmas, the world was a mess;
Children were doubting, (mine too, must confess!)
They wanted to know now, how Santa could be;
all over the world, in one night, you see?
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Now, have you ever stopped to think,
Who paints the sky a golden pink?
With strands of mauve and purple blue,
outlined in peach of every hue?
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A butterfly upon the breeze,
floated to the wind-blown trees;
How it hoped to even dare,
to drift so high upon the air!
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God is always very busy,
He has lots work to do;
So, He created Teachers,
To help both me and you!
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With limpid inky pools for eyes,
and wavy hair like watered silk;
Pink coral lips to tantalise,
Skin like fresh strawberry milk.
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I made a paper airplane,
In class one rainy day;
My best friend wanted it.
but I let it fly away.
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T'was days before Christmas and it didn't seem so,
Cheer and Goodwill, had flown out of the window;
Three precious gifts, were nowhere to be found,
tho' I searched and sought, and looked all around.
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I'll have another ice-cream please,
flavoured with hot garlic cheese;
With just a dash of chilli sauce,
All covered with strawberry gloss.
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Children like Sunflowers,
turn to face the sun;
Reflect golden sunbeams,
on each and everyone!
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How very good yet slightly strange,
that a mind bearing a burden,
When thirsting for reprieve and change,
lets God's will get a word in.
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The railway tracks gleam silver black,
for miles along its lonely way;
Thundering onslaught in attack,
scattering stones in disarray.
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India is a patch-work, of every single hue,
Vibrant reds and ochres, and pensive shades of blue;

Skeins of gold light up the sky, when the sun wakes up each morn,
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When I am tucked up in my bed,
after I say my night prayers;
Ma gently pats my sleepy head,
and we share our daily cares.
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I baked a bit of bread today,
Seasoned it with herb and spice;
I placed it in the oven tray,
Set the timer to be precise.
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A Cross on my forehead, in ash,
reminds me of where I will be;
when the years pass by in a flash,
I'll return to the earth, naturally.
...

There's a goblin in my cupboard,
he eats up all my socks;
and just in case you haven't heard,
he lives in the shoe box.
...