The sun crashes through the doors,
Throwing long shadows,
That, at certain times of day,
Flood the floor with colour.
At others, they just fill the room with light.
Just acquired, my fire house flat,
Will become my own unique backdrop,
To the staging points of my life.
A blank canvas presently,
It will be peopled with my past and present,
To create a harmonious future.

This is my idea of heaven,
A slab of chocolate come half eleven.
Particularly if it’s full of nuts,
No whys, no wherefores, no ifs, nor buts!

I love it at this time of year,
When this particular flower begins to appear.
I wind a garland around my hat,
It makes me feel like a pussycat.
I love the fragrance, love the smell,
Love the beautiful colour as well.
I feel like I’ve walked on a Hollywood set,
I’d like to get out my clarinet,
And play a lilting, gentle song,
That makes the world just bounce along…
This is my splendid lavender ode,
So let your senses just explode!

The sky grew black, a front came in,
Lowering, gloomy, threatening,
And then the lightning cracked.

A blaze of light across the sky,,
Myriad tendrils of stimuli,
As the lightning cracked.

Summer storms are big and brash,
They take you with a sudden flash,
Of overpowering lightning.

This old bridge has stood for years,
It’s carried cattle to market, both calves and steers.
It’s seen too many pub-goers downing beers,
And novice drivers crunching gears.
Built by townsfolk and engineers,
Once a path for brave pioneers,
Seeking fortune and new frontiers,
And glamorous, glittering, great careers,
It is now just simply what it appears,
A sight that gladdens, a sight that cheers.

I saw this map the other day,
And planned a road trip right away,
A journey to take me from coast to coast,
A visit about which I could really boast.
Orinoco, Amazon,
Which river should I boat upon?
Take in Guyana and Peru,
And Lake Titicaca too.
Venezuela is a must,
And it’s Montevideo or bust!
Lima, Quito and Cayenne,
North to South and back again,
Coast to Coast and shore to shore,
I’ll be travelling for a year or more!

Map c/o http://www.infoplease.com/atlas/southamerica.html

Why do they dress us in white and blue?
I’m not a sailor and nor are you!
I’m tired of them saying, “Oh, aren’t they sweet?”,
When I want to play football out in the street!
I want to fall over and graze my knee,
Or scratch it, climbing the nearest tree.
Just a splash of colour, a splash of red,
Bloody knees or bloody head!
I’m not an angel, I’m a small boy,
And I want to be grubby! Oh, what a joy!
Let’s eat spaghetti and get sauce on our things,
Just the thought of it happening, and my heart sings!
So down with blue and down with white,
I’m going to roll in a puddle with all my might!

The chill of the night
Has brushed each leaf
With gentle condensation.
Beads of perspiration,
Some large, some small,
Stipple the surface,
Gathering in drops,
Perfect pearls of dew.

I want to walk in my mother’s shoes,
She’s my heroine, it’s her I choose,
It’s her I want to emulate,
Because she’s cool, because she’s great.
With her I feel safe and so secure,
Her love is something of which I’m sure.
I want to walk in my mother’s shoes,
With her support, how can I lose?

To our mum, it comes as no surprise,
That we’re hat-wearing kinda guys!
Keep warm? Wear something on your head!
And we wear hats to knock ’em dead!
Party hats, peaks from New York,
Anything to make you talk!
Hats designed to come up to scratch,
And, what’s more, they always match.

Photos by Grace Chon: http://www.gracechon.com