If your sky is grey
let me paint it blue,
if you need love
I’ll love you.

If your heart is broken
I’ll wrap you in my wings,
I’ll sing a sweet song
reassurance it will bring.

If you need a friend
I’m always there,
I’ll pick the stars
and place them in your hair.

When you feel alone
don’t be afraid to call,
for I’ll always catch you
if you stumble and fall.

If you’re sad and blue
just remember,
I’m your friend
I’ll always love you!

In 1941
On this very day
A heinous deed done
In a cowardly way

Attacked while most slumbered
Chaos ensued
Now all awake
Their worst fears were true

Dead laying about
The damage was done
But a giant awoken
Fearing no-one

Heroes were born
From regular souls
Who leapt into action
Their futures unknown

The past is just that
No changing it now
Heroes from both sides
Lie dead in the ground

We should never forget them
One thing we Should do
Is never repeat
What both sides Did do

Attacked killed and maimed
The unfortunate souls
Both fighting for country
And the fight for control

Just thought I'd mention
What some had forgot
Freedom's not free
It cost quite a lot

We can never repay
What they have given
We can only be thankful
For such men and women

Ode to a Norwegian mother.


How did you get to be so strong?
I shake my head in disbelief
At how she carries gold and grief
All day; all night-time long.

A silver crown upon her hair;
Those strands of grey now shine.
They speak of struggles; mother's
Fears. I wish that hers were mine.

I ask her: "Share that weight with me.
I know your legs are worn and sore."
But men have tried and failed before;
She says: "It's mine, just leave it be."

She'll pick the sun down from the
Skies. She'll sing until the ocean cries. 
She'll shift the planets all at once,
To clear a path for her two sons

To rise as Kings of Time and Space, 
And guide this place from guilt to
Grace. She raises them to save the day.
I say: Let's not get in their way.

He sees me from a distance and
passes a hand through his hair,
His smile changes, his voice does too,
His movements pick up a flair
Reserved for only those moments
of hopeful eye contacts,
that harbour even the remotest possibility
of culminating into the act-

The act, for which my body
Prepares me month after month,
Clouding my senses and bombarding me
With erogenous oestrogen and ferocious pheromones,
That dictate my actions every mid-cycle,
To deck me in colour and spray myself fragrant,
Like a flower opening herself and welcoming
Her visitor who's looking at her from a distance,

What more, say, is existence,
Than the dance of the elements?
The heart wraps it up in candy and fluff,
But the mind and the flesh call its bluff,
And sway to the tune of 'find and mate',
The steps known to them, though never taught,
The mind swaying along to procreate,
The flesh joining in, to recreate.

Where no one can disdain
Where no one feel be scorned
Where no one try to brag
Where no one feel helpless
Where no one try to fight
Where no one try to get rid of
Where no need of a barren land
Where no need of desert insight
Where no need of any shyness
Where we would ready to hear the truth
And take it as a tweet of bird
Where flowers’ beauty and fragrance
Can lessen pangs and sorrows of
This cruel cunning ugly world
And we would start to dance in breeze
With the jocund company of You
When a tiny, an innocent
Shining and transparent dew drop
That cannot miss a chance in hurry
To make a snap impatiently
Be a witness!
Bless us O’ Lord!
Bless us a chance
O’ my Lord!

Just a story.
When I was a kid... yes there was a time I was a kid, the garden was just South of the house.  Mom and I worked in the garden a lot.  Sometimes when she was not in the garden I would lay between the carrot rows, pull a carrot out of the sandy soil, brush off the sand and have a very fresh yummy carrot.  They were soooo tender they seemed to melt in my mouth.  Anyway, when I was finished eating the carrot I would put the top back into the hole.  No one was the wiser.  No one knew the difference or so I thought.  I did notice the carrot top would wilt which looked a little suspicious but... there was a gopher problem so maybe the gophers ate the carrots.  Sounded like a good story to me.  "Did the gopher eat the carrot mom?" "Yes probably so."

I found out years later.... Mom knew who the gopher was.  BUSTED.

I was telling this story to my grand daughter Lucy after school one day.  Her eyes brightened up and said, "That is a funny story grandpa."  So here it is added to the memories of a grandpa.  Lucy keeps telling people, strangers even, "you should hear this. Grandpa tell them about the carrots."  The story has latched onto her 5 year old brain and won't let go.

So... the next time you are eating a carrot... don't fib to your mom.