I Walk

From the moment I swapped my crawl to walk, I stood strong, I stood tall.

Fast and slow, hard and soft, my shoulders back, my head aloft.

Running along the orange dirt track, sun on my face, wind at my back.

Green rich grass, much taller than me, I ran and ran until I could see,

A brand new island across the sea.

A land full of promise, a land full of dreams, a land which would become a home.

My feet sometimes heavy, sometimes they would spring, sometimes I simply didn’t know where to begin.

So I roamed.

I roamed this land searching for more, a million flowers, more open doors.

I trekked through forests, I hiked over hills, there was never ever a better cure for my ills.

And if I tripped, if I fell, I clambered back to my feet, knowing all would be well.

I strode to the palace, dipped my toes in the Loch, bare foot across pastures, closed my eyes to the clock.

I followed the trails, blazed my own too. And still I have so much to do.

I walked for love, I walked for laughs, I walked when sadness weighted my heart.

I walked with joy, romance and skill, I kept on walking up over the hill.

I walked with pain, I walked in despair, I walked until I didn’t care.

I walked with many, I walked alone, I walked with my children till they were grown.

I’ll walk until I can walk no more, I’ll run until I stop.

My journey has been incredible,

I see my path from the mountain top.

My Rich Heritage

I love fish and chips, prawn fried rice, chicken curry and peanut stew.

Risotto, goulash, pizza and Kentucky fried chicken.

I love mangoes, oranges, bananas, grapes, strawberries, pink lady apples and conference pears.

I love hot chocolate and ginger beer,

A cuppa brings me good cheer.

I don’t eat sausage, bacon, or any pork.

Crustaceans or fish without scales or some other creatures, it is against my religion.

This makes me a cosmopolitan diner.

I support Manchester United.

Husain bolt is my hero.

Muhammad Ali in my opinion is still the greatest.

Between Garfield Sobers and Viv Richards

I am undecided.

I love cricket, tennis and basket ball.

Ghandi, Kennedy, Martin Luther King,

Thatcher, Wilson, Heath and Mandela.

Who am I?

Do I know?

Do I have an identity crisis?

Have I sold out?

Am I a coconut?

Am I a bounty?

Am I a liberal?

Am I simply apathetic?

Where is my passion?

I no longer feel oppressed.

I am free.

It’s My funeral

No Flowers please I am dead.

No red rose, no yellow rose.

No lily of the valley.

No irises they belong in a vase.

No cut flowers let them live on,

I am already dead.

No flowers please I am dead.

No longer can I enjoy the heady fragrance of the old rose.

I can no longer experience the delicate touch of the petals

of the carnation.

In life I touched, I smelt the sweet perfumes, I saw the beauty, I observed the glistening dew jewels on the petals.

Chrysanthemums, Dahlias, the red hot poker orange blossoms were all mine to enjoy.

No flowers please, I am dead.

Enjoy the gift of flowers yourself instead.