Arabic is my mouth Hausa, my tongue And, English my teeth Chinese my ready food French is my epiglottis Persian, my soft drink Hebrew, hidden palatal Fulde is my labial
Pushing the half dozen sodden flakes of corn Round the bottom of the Willow pattern dish The woman wondered how she could endure The continual daily struggle to exist and enjoy.
There was always Evelyn with her warm heart And Florence curly in the sunlight smiling out Two little precious gems conjured from a book Always ready to give whatever they were able.
When you departed for paradise my love you left an ache lodged in my heart, An ache full of memories mostly sweet, some sour and a few bitter, An ache that will only leave my soul when I meet you again. 30/6/2020