There was a time when jars were fine

All packed with nails and screws,

There was a place and even space

For every tool he knew.

But oh alas his precious lass

Was not permitted in his place

Means now the toys owned by the boy

Take every vacant space.

A firm workbench, now sadly drenched

By coke split by a saw,

And the complex cart of kitchen parts

Would attract a rat for sure.

A cemetry this sure must be

Of phone jacks, cords and screws

And the radio one day could go

If not for faulty fuse.

The TV screen, it sure looks mean

With coax through the floor

He has created quite a date with

Channels 1-4.

It may well be a monstrosity

To those fear to enter in

But we stand in awe for behind those doors

Dad always has a grin!

M Nelson (c) 1997

Written for my daughter for her 21st – one day I hope she will read it.

Today, we celebrated your 21st birthday

And as I watched you walk ahead of me with your friends,

I saw the years pass by.

I heard the giggly, happy pre-schooler,

Proudly beside me,

Singing to all who would listen,

“The wheels on the bus go ’round and ’round.

I was taught by you to enjoy

Sparkly pink shoes, playful puppies,

Correct grammar, policies and politics.

We would run together in the parks and the sea,

And walk together making silly rhymes to pass the time.

I remember sharing them all with you

When I was your best-friend and

We were each other’s favourite teacher.

 

Today as we walked to the coffee shop

You have that familiar determined stride,

The only difference is that now

The steps you walk in,

Are not synced with mine.

I walked a few paces behind

And recognized this was no coincidence –

It’s my time to be here now.

 

Enjoy this path you are on

You know where you want to go

Go confidently

As I know you will.

 

May my love and the memories we share

Be in the reflections you see as you look behind

From time to time,

Not alongside to distract you –

Not ahead to lead you –

But just there to remind you,

That there is someone for you who is always there for you,

Only  a few paces behind.

 

29 July 2013 (c) M Nelson

“The wonder of confusion…”

Why was I born a woman
With this shape I’ve never liked?
When bikinis I try on
It’s not a pretty sight!

Why was I born a woman
For the many that I know
Don’t share the interests that I have
They sell tupperware, or sew

Why was I born a woman
In this world so full of men
When morning tea is served
It is ‘she’ who must attend

And in her wifely role
Prepare their drinks, then clean
I can’t believe there’re women
Who enjoy that type of scene!

Why was I born a woman?
I know you’d answer if you could
Could you tell me why as well
I feel drawn to motherhood?

For what I know of kids
It’s just more of the same
Increased housework, change of shape,
Demands on time again.

But no one but a woman
Can feel that life inside
So fragile, so dependant
As it grows with mother’s pride
Why was I born a woman?
I’m going mad, I guess –
For despite it all I just can’t wait
To wear a preggie dress!

 

(c) M Nelson 1992

 

(c) M Nelson Feb 1993