Can't wait for Spring

Nothing now is green but the lawn.
All the trees and plants look forlorn.
No birds that happily chirp or sing
Nothing but pigeons that cannot sing.

No colours but white, blue and brown.
Colours in the sky and of branches barren.
No squirrels, magpies or even a raven.
Nothing does our moods and hearts liven.

When will we see beautiful hues.
Budding flowers and sprouting leaves.
When will we hear the birdie's song.
Soon it will spring, the wait isn't long.

Give me Sunshine

Not the rain that pours and floods.
Not the drizzle that dampens spirits.
Not the overcast that gloomily looms.
Not the cloud that comes and goes.
Not the white snow that falls in flakes.
Not the fog that blinds my eyes.
But the sunshine that brightens-I ask.
For in it, my soul truly delights.

Were you there at your funeral?

They said you were the best of the best.

They said you were so full of life.

They said you touched many a life.

They said you were loved by all the rest.

They said you died much before your time.

They came by the hundreds to see your face.

They came with loads of the loveliest flowers.

They spoke of you in such charming rhyme.

No one dared to criticise you.

No one said anything bad.

No one spoke of flaws in you.

No one was there, that was not sad.

Your mum and dad were very grieved,

Your siblings- of you were very proud.

No one was present who was not bereaved.

No one was discourteous, impolite or loud.

Oh! How I wish you’d known,
So many for you would mourn.

Oh! How I wish you'd heard-their words

So sweet, when you had lived.

Syria

Syria, synonymous with suffering.
Shelling, killing, people wailing.
None working for healing.
The world simply watching.

People fleeing,-as refugees living.
Neighbouring nations never welcoming.
Morning, noon and evening.
Pass on without meaning.

RELATIONSHIPS

Some we make as we enter the world,

For a while they remain our world.

Then they start to twist and turn,

They're not pleasant, we soon learn.

Some we make inadvertently in childhood,

Few, we keep at later times, rest we shed.

Some we work hard at making and keeping,

Later we wonder if they are worth keeping.

Very few we make based on ‘nothing’ really,

Expecting, demanding and wanting nothing.

Them that accept you just as you are –really,

Listening and reprimanding yet never judging.

These stand the test of time and grow,

Deeper and firmer when you hit a low.

Lean on these in confusing times,-and ignore

The ones that faded over the times.

Million Dollar questions from my son

1. Why do all the people in a family have to have the same second name?
2. Why do most of my teachers have colours for second names Mr. White, Mrs. Black, Mr. Brown...?
3. You are pretty good at teaching me stuff, why do I need to go to school?
4. Did dad marry you because he liked you better than any another woman he had known?
5. If video games are not good for children, why do they make them for children?
6. Why are you and your sister so different from each other, having had the same set of parents!?
7. When will I get to sport a moustache?
8. Why are animal-fathers so irresponsible leaving the mothers to fend for the young-ones?
9. Why does everyone have to have a navel?
10. Are babies in mummies' tummies covered with food that the mothers eat? I tell him about the special bags mummies have called Uterus, and comes the next question.
11. Why do dad's have no special bags to keep babies in their tummies?
12. Can I change my wife's name to Hannah Margaret? I really like you a lot
13. Do you think I'll need to be as firm as you are with me, with my son?
14. Dad, why did you choose to marry mum and not your brother's wife?
15. Why are ice and snow white if they come from water which is colourless? I tell him, that when many transparent layers are piled one on top of another they seem white, and comes the next question
16. If transparent layers piled together look like white,is white really a colour?
17. When we built a house do you think we can name it 'Heaven'?
18. I am quite confused, can you help me decide whether to become a Barber, a Fire man or Usain Bolt when I grow up?
19. Hums a tune for a while and says, Shall we send that to London to be called the official tune for Paralympics?
20. Looks at an Audi car and says, they should have added one more circle to make it look like the Olympic symbol, don't you think so?
21. Do you know ma, with just a little lip-stick on, you look lovelier than me?
22. That old man must be million year old, is it not?
23. On the airplane, if we fell down,we'd die, but that's ok because i am going to go to heaven, will  u be coming ma?

Ah! to love like a child

It was a fine Tuesday evening and the sun had chosen to come out on Belfast. My son and I put on our shoes and coats, to go to a house prayer meeting. I wondered how he was going to handle the next two or three hours. He will be surrounded by adults and none of them will be speaking our mother tongue. One thing that frustrates my son is meeting Indians in Belfast and having to speak to them in English. The thoughts in my head were too cumbersome to delve in.So I shut them out told myself ' I will keep him company'.

When we reached the house we waited with our friends for the guests. The guests were a minister and his family. So we looked forward to a time of chit-chatting,prayer, bible-reading and eating.  My heart leapt for joy when in the party of guests was a 4 year-old girl Veronica. My son was thrilled, he did not have to be stuck with adults always asking him his name and about his school. 'Say. Hi ! Hanniel to our welcome surprise Veronica' I said.' Hi!' he said and smiled. The little girl hid behind her mother, as we sat down to talk, Veronica refused to open her mouth and stay stuck to her mothers arms. 'Why wont she talk', my son asked. 'She is shy, you should be doing the talking now' I said.  He crept next to Veronica and started talking.

In minutes they were chasing each other, laughing, talking and left the adults to ourselves. After two hours, it was time for Veronica to leave. The parting-from-people time was similar to walking-together time, it meant questions. Why does he have to leave shortly? why can she not stay at our place? why can we not go to their house right away, why wait for another day? when will I meet her again? Then when the questions had run out the tears came. 'Please son, no crying please I' said. No more words, Hanniel turned his back on the leaving guests, a very stunned tear-less Veronica and waved bye -bye.

When the tears were gone 'why did you cry?' I asked. 'Because I dint want her to go' he said. 'And now...' I stopped there. 'She had to go.... and I am feeling better already' my son said. I envied him.
To be able to love so dearly, so fully, so really in such a short span of time. To part in sadness, but let go willingly, to remember so fondly, to recover so rapidly and to speak about it so openly. That is to love like a child.