(The home where I grew up)
Of Papa and Mama and seventeen siblings
It was once a boisterous home filled with glee
Where all who visited would always feel free
With rambutans to pluck and bananas in combs
Ducks, chickens, cats and dogs were considered family
Everyone was welcomed to this wonderful fraternity
There were cannas, honolulus and magnolias too
Radiating a kaleidoscope of colours and hue
In a garden so lovingly tended, rich flora thrives
Thanks to my mom, who’s up before each sunrise
The Mango tree and the Durian tree
And the Bauhinia tree, so loved by my sister and me
Grows side by side, though in each own’s domain
The majesty of these old trees, unshaken by rain
The much-loved Neem tree with it’s bitter leaves
Has medicinal value so the elders believe
The gigantic “
Notorious for its supernatural powers and resident ghosts
The banana trees provided us with food
From the fruit to the trunk, to their tuber roots
The Guava tree, a favourite of mine
With its sturdy branches for us to climb
The coconuts were a source of income
When the pickers work in the burning sun
A time we siblings dread the most
Plenty to do, tempers flare, which makes it worse
The house itself was a horse stable once
But nobody will guess if we don’t announce
As a cosy little nest my mom had made
To bring up her brood and she’s done great
My dad passed on in our little homestead
Memories of him we’ll always spread
To our own young ones we’ll lovingly pass
So the stories of our childhood will forever last
The great big house we love is now torn down
And mom and dad are not around
Always shall we think back with nostalgia
Our humble abode will remain so dear.
1 comment:
Hey, Liz, you sure good at poems, eh? I read your poem and I think it is very nice. How I wish I could write poems like that.We all have very sentimental memories especially when we were young. I , too, like very much to go back to my old house where I used to stay in Kuan Woh Yuen, (bet u don't know where it is) I say that because no one really knows where that God forsaken place is where I used to call home. Whenever I was asked where I lived, I mentioned Kuan Woh Yuen, nobody seems to know where it is. Nine out of ten times , I get the same answer. Where is Kuan Woh Yuen? Now, makes you wonder ,isn't it?
When foreigners asked us where is Malaysia we have a hard time telling them where until we asked them do they know where is Singapore?. Funny isn't it? They know the tiny island Singapore but they just didn't know where the peninsula is even though we are so much bigger than Singapore.
I still remember I used to climb the rambutan trees eating rambutans off the tree as soon as it is plucked. My mom would yell from below , to stop cos me and my brother will be throwing the skins on the ground below and mum will summoned us to clean up. She is sick of picking up after us. We also had a guava tree and one soursop tree around our old house as well.
We would play marbles, fly kites, pick up sticks, hide and seek, blind man's buff.
Yes, we all have our own little homestead where we grew up in. Until today, I still like to go back there and recollect childhood memories.
No wonder, the saying "There is No Place like Home" holds true.
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