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Tweet tweet my birdie, tweet

Sweet sweet my birdie, sweet

 

When your heart does beat

For the love you meet

Give her your golden seat

She’ll be at your feet

 

Tweet tweet my birdie, tweet

Sweet sweet my birdie, sweet

 

Night night birdie.

He does it with a smile,

It’s just easier that way, smiling through the race,

It makes the water warmer, it makes the track smoother, it makes his legs stronger

And when he is done, he smiles.

My brother smiling proudly after completing his first triathlon

When the spiced kulfi of India, becomes the fragrant bastani of Persia, becomes the aromatic bouza of Levant, becomes the fruity gelato of Italy, becomes the tangy sorbet of France, becomes the creamy ice cream of England.

Become one big bowl of frozen desserts with different flavors, colors, aromas and textures.

Just like us people.

 

If she is lucky, she will catch a glimpse of his eyes.  His beautiful, beautiful eyes.  Maybe he will look towards her and smile.  With his beautiful, beautiful smile.  Perhaps if she moves closer, her hands would brush against his hands.  His beautiful, beautiful hands.

And for ten years.  Everyday, her heart sinks when his beautiful eyes meet hers.  Everyday, her blood warms when his beautiful smile falls upon her.  Everyday, her toes tingle when his beautiful hands touch hers.  Every single day, she falls in love with her beautiful, beautiful man all over again, and again, and again.

What an honor to be nominated by the admirable gladius poeticus poet.  Thank you Kenneth.

And how exciting it is to receive a second blog award

So here are the rules for the Versatile Blogger Awards:

– Nominate up to 15 fellow bloggers

– Inform the bloggers of their nomination.

– Share 7 random things about yourself.

– Thank the blogger who nominated you.

– Add the Versatile Blogger Award picture on your blog post.

Here are a few blogs I recently came across and would like to nominate:

Jason Writes – the teacher that middle schoolers will forever remember

Motherhood is an Art – the mother with the funniest stories of her kids

Pangaweka – the artist with the beautiful pictures and beautiful words

And here are seven random things about me:

1.  My childhood is filled with memories of travels to countries around the world.  Visiting different lands, hearing different languages, eating different foods, learning of different religions, experiencing different cultures – all made me the person I am now. Read this piece I wrote about how I feel about a country.

2. When dreaming of motherhood, I always imagined having all pretty little girls.  I end up having two very messy boys.  Here’s one inspired by my boy’s dream to sail.  And this about their red toy car.  And this one of their little hands in mine.

3, I fell in love with poetry at first sight.  I was 7 years old when I first read a poem.  It was about a robin.  Memorised it and kept reciting to myself all day.

4. I wrote my first poem when I was 10 as a class assignment.  Mine was the only poem that the teacher chose to read out loud to the class.  Sadly, I lost the poem, but I remember the first line which also repeats as the last ‘I drew a house with a grey sky moving’

5. I’m a Virgo.  I feel very connected to my sign.  Here’s what I wrote on my birthday.

6.  I believe happiness is the most important thing one should seek in life.  I really, really do believe in this.

7. Seven is my favorite number!

“Hey, old friend.  Remember the day you betrayed me.  It’s been years.  But I haven’t forgotten. The bitter taste still lingers on my tongue.

Hey, old friend.  Remember when I showed you how to kick a ball, dunk a basket, hit a home run.  The other boys laughed, only I stood by you.  But then you gave me your back.  The clench of my fist still hasn’t loosened.

Hey, old friend.  Remember when I taught you how to shave your chin, style your hair, pick your clothes.  You came out looking good for the girls.  But then you denied me.  The punch in my chest still sinks deep.

Hey, old friend.  My little boy sits next to your little boy in class.  I said to him, ‘His father was an old friend.’  But I didn’t tell him of your bitter tasting, chest punching, fist clenching betrayal.  I taught my son well, I hope you have taught yours better.”