This is a poem by Meuna who is 7 years old on his mother’s birthday: enjoy.
Nobody knows that I died a long time ago.
But she would have known,
Even from the slab at Melen.
The Angel offered to seize it all: Your peaceful days gathering water Your anonymity doing God’s … More
Dear Readers, I had to share this little jewel from my 8-year-old son; something special he wrote for his precious … More
They say glass is made from sand, and I’ve witnessed In documentaries how men take the so-rough-and-ugly To make these … More
I’m mostly skin-colour blind, but in this post I want to reflect on the struggles within the black communities. You … More
Till pieces are ready to be put in the cauldron
Of oil of olive and salt and more
And make my meal, no a meal for me and the squadron
Of 2 bigger boys and 1 girlish bore,
I loved deep but saying “I love you” was an Isaac sacrifice, …till the well ran dry
To all Teachers: 5, 10 and 15 those three numbers which represent all you were to me:
End of nursery, end of primary, end of secondary and start university!
Love is a choice, a decision which you have thought through and are making on that beautiful day. The next 100years of your happy lives depends on both of you (and the kids on the way 🙂 )