Tudor Times

Tudor times.

The plots, the threats, the lies,

Treason, poison and trusted spies.

Court was the place to be,

Execution was a fun thing to see.

Theater was at it’s best,

Shakespeare, Marlowe and the rest.

Explorers or pirates with their loot,

Heroes or villains ? – How astute!

Grammer schools for the rich,

The girls at home, were taught to stitch.

Big mansions were built in certain places,

With decorated chambers and private spaces.

The nobles clothes had jewels and all,

And fantastic self-portraits on the wall.

Bear-baiting was the cruel delight,

Both Henry and Liz loved the sight.

The Holy Bible was translated,

Catholics then were doomed and hated.

The Armarda was the Spanish fleet,

Which were forced to scatter and retreat.

Tudor England had a lot to offer,

The English, on the whole did prosper.

The historical facts are there,

For future generations to learn and share.

* This poem was also included in a performance by children who were 10 at the time.

Poems

                                    Poems can be written in many ways,
                                    Some are quick to create,
                                    Others take days and days.

                                   To be inspired over a certain theme,
                                   Can help the creative process,
                                   And the writing then, becomes a dream.

                                   Or better still, with no theme at "beck and call"
                                   You suddenly find yourself writing madly,
                                   About nothing at all!

                                  Personally, my poems have to rhyme,
                                  Don't ask me why?
                                  I guess it's something to do with music and time.

                                 I love to hear the words match,
                                 Making the writing more difficult,
                                 But oh! magic, when you hear the click and latch!

                                And when the poem's done,
                                What satisfaction to sit back,
                                And re-read the birth of yet another son!

                               I don't rhyme for folks to judge or see,
                               I write to explore and have fun,

                               It's part of me.  

Thirteen Retirement Steps.

                                                                  Rejecting.
                                                                  Regretting.
                                                                  Reminiscing.
                                                                  Readjusting.
                                                                  Revaluating.
                                                                  Recommencing.
                                                                  Rediscovering.
                                                                  Relaxing.
                                                                  Realizing.
                                                                  Relinquishing.
                                                                  Reigniting.
                                                                  Reemerging.
                                                                  Reliving.

Such is love.

                                  The inward joy, ah, the bliss,
                                  The feeling of being loved.
                                  The warm and passionate kiss,

                                  Ah....such is love!


                                  The whispered words shared by two.
                                  The hope of things to come.
                                  The tender stare used to woo,
                                  Ah...such is love!


                                  The sparkling eyes the happy look.
                                  The hours that fly by.
                                  The excited chatter, the attempt to cook,
                                  Ah...such is love!

The British School

                                  In this ever changing world in which we live,

                                 To our future adults we give,

                         The strong values that mould the young,

                         So let the praises of our school be sung.

                       The British School of Rio is in our hearts.

                           Tradition and education it imparts.

                         Each generation we shape and guide,

                       Giving them opportunities far and wide.

                     The seeds for tomorrow's happiness we lay,

                        And character we build from day to day.                    

                                Always striving for the best,

                        So that our youth can triumph with zest.

                             Exploring what the present holds,

                         So that tomorrow's secrets will unfold.

                      Our school will be the essence of our souls,

               Something to look back on, when we've all achieved

                                            our goals.

     * I can't remember what year this took place but, I was asked to write a poem that could later be put to music with the idea of having a school anthem. It never happened, and I found the poem in the middle of all my papers and wanted to share it....After all I gave 30 years of my life to this establishment!

Mummies Poem

                               Mummies, mummies all are we,
                        All bound up for eternity.
                     Bandages covering every part,
                    Tightly wrapped across the heart.
                 The sarcophagus is ready and waiting,
                   And we the mummies are hesitating....
                      Although afterlife looks like fun,
                          We are still - not done!
                      A little dance we'd like to do,
              To thrill you - through and through.....oooooooo!

  * This was included in a presentation on ancient Egypt. It was presented by children who were roughly ten or eleven. At the end of the poem they made-up their own sequence to a short dance to Michael Jackson's "Thriller".

My Teacher

                                            Não sei escrever em português,
                                            Mas chegou a minha vez,
                                            De agradecer à Janaina,
                                            Por ser tão gente fina!
                                            Já me ajudou demais,
                                            Com muita calma e muita paz.
                                            Me mostrou um novo mundo,
                                            Agora, sem medo, eu vou fundo!
                                            Com a tecnologia ao meu dispor,
                                            Jana me fez um enorme favor.
                                            A solidão que rondava,
                                            Está bem menos do que estava.
                                            É um ser iluminado,
                                            E cá estou eu dando meu recado!
                                            Gosto demais dessa menina,

                                            Na foto...a super teacher, Janaina!

Towards the light

            The more we know,
            The more we grow.
            The more we grow,
            The lighter the soul.
            The lighter the soul,
            The Higher we go.
            The Higher we go,
            The more we glow.
            The more we glow,
            The closer we grow.
            The closer we grow,
            To God...you know!

Light

Best Friends

                      They are the special part of life,
                      The ones who help you deal with strife.
                      Some played with you when you were small,
                      Others still pick you up, at every fall.
                      They dry your tears or weep with you,
                      You can count on them to see you through.
                      Acquaintances you may have a lot,
                      But how many REAL friends have you actually got?
                      You know that they are really true,
                      When no matter what, they stand by you!
                      Through-out my journey this time around,
                      A few best friends I have found.
                      Brothers and sisters along the road,
                      Friends who've helped me with my load.
                      These angels appeared when I needed them most,
                      So I've written this poem as a toast.
                      Thank-you for always being there.
                      Thank-you for all the love and care.
                      Into time and space we'll go,
                      Our friendship like a star will glow.
                      And should we return again to earth,
                      I know I will recognise your soul with mirth.
                      Dear friends such a strong affectionate hold,
                      Can only be left for eternity to unfold.
                      Finally one more question let me send...
                      Please be with me until the end?.

Best Friends

The Unloved Child

                    The child ran from one person to another,
              trying to find someone who would love her.
              Then she grabbed hold of my arm,
              and cried out in alarm...
              "Will nobody love me?".
              No one answered this little ones plea,
              and as I stood there my heart ached within me.
              How materialistic and selfish people are today,
              to turn a little one like this away.
              Yes....I would love her,
              and be a better mother,
              better than you, who could not love her!

The Beginning.

         This is me at twelve....My first day at an English boarding school. This was when I started to write.
         Above you will see the first poem I ever wrote.

Brasil Rap

                        Beautiful and big,
                Is the country that we dig!
                With beaches and sun,
                Coconuts and fun.
                Mountains of green,
                And forests serene.
                Waterfalls so high,
                They almost touch the sky.
                Animals so rare,
                They're sure to make you stare.
                The colours of the flowers,
                And the cities with their towers.
                The churches done with gold,
                And the statues to behold.
                The Amazon so vast,
                With indians from the past.
                Beautiful and big,
                Is the country that we dig!
                BRASIL!
This rap was included at the end of a presentation for children about the discovery of Brasil.
The children were all between the ages of seven and eight.
           
                   

Brasil

Reflection

The Bedroom

                         The silence of my room,
                         The stillness does consume.
                         The echoes from the past,
                         The memories that last.
                         The tick-tock of the clock,
                         The sound of a distant rock.
                         The laughter of a child,
                         The life outside, so free, so wild.
                         The many thoughts that come and go,
                         The sadness I have yet to know,
                         The friends and dear ones that I miss.
                         The boyfriends and the stolen kiss.
                         The loneliness and the time,
                         The reflection that is mine.

Loneliness

Phases...The first painting Id like to share

Phases is about the changes that one goes through in life...I'm going into the yellow phase, the search for light and the anwers to soul searching questions. Where are you?

The First Poem I Ever Published

                                                    Modern Technology.
           
                         For those of us without the big things in life,
                         Family, kids, husband or wife.
                         In order to keep from getting bitter,
                         Nowdays, spend hour upon hour on Twitter,
                         Google, Youtube, Facebook and emails,
                         Relationship sites...boy, could I tell you some tales!
                         What ordinary folk are capable of doing...
                         In front of a webcam, is liable for suing!
                         Although nothing at this stage should surprise,
                         I am still shocked at what people devise!
                         Just when I think I've seen it all,
                         Something pops up on my screen to appall!
                         Modern technology is all good and well,
                         Or was that a tale that my technician did tell?
                         Now who am I to advise?
                         But for those of you who are wise,
                         Get yourself off the chair,
                         And into the fresh-air.
                         Life is better off the screen,
                         More real, more serene.
                         Technology can also be strain and strife,
                         So go outside and get a life!
                         
                

Presentation

                    It's taken a long, long time to summon up enough courage to subject others to my creative streak. Hopefully, most of us continue to learn, evolve, adapt and re-invent themselves thanks to the huge lessons that life is constantly presenting us with. One such lesson, made me re-think the reasons for having a creative side at all, if not to share it with others, who knows, it might be helpful or touch a heart or two...Welcome to my blog!