Once upon a time
our story was an inspiration
in every piece of music you wrote
I hoped it stayed that way
You and your guitar
by the ivy clothed window
facing the morning honey beams
Life is happening nowadays
You run out of time
to hear the birds’ morning routine
and wish coffee can be drip fed
My luxury of morning coffee in bed
is downgraded to Valentine’s treat
We are no strangers
But if I have to choose
I am willing to be your old guitar
play me till your fingers bleed
and your heart is content
once again
Sadie, the cleaning lady
With trusty scrubbing brush and pail of water
Worked her fingers to the bone, for the life she had at home
Providing at the same time for her daughter
Ahh Sadie, the cleaning lady
Her aching knees not getting any younger
Well her red detergent hands, have for years not held a man’s
And time would find her heart expired of hunger
Scrub your floors, do your chores, dear old Sadie
Looks as though you’ll always be a cleaning lady
Can’t afford to get bored dear old Sadie
Looks as though you’ll always be a cleaning lady
Ahh Sadie, the cleaning la-ady
Her female mind would find a way of trapping
Though as gentle as a lamb, Sam the elevator man
So she could spend the night by TV, napping
Ahh Sadie, the cleaning lady
Her aching knees not getting any younger
Well her red detergent hands, have for years not held a man’s
And time would find her heart expired of hunger
Ahh, scrub your floors, do your chores, dear old Sadie
Looks as though you’ll always be a cleaning lady
Can’t afford to get bored dear old Sadie
Looks as though you’ll always be a cleaning lady
Ahh Sadie, the cleaning lady
Her Sam was what she got, hook, line and sinker
To her sorrow and dismay, she’s still working to this day
Her Sam turned out to be a nervous figure
Ahh, scrub your floors, do your chores, dear old Sadie
Looks as though you’ll always be a cleaning lady
Can’t afford to get bored dear old Sadie (fade)
I thank the beginning of each and every day
Yesterdays are locked away
Triumph and defeat are two masters the same
in the fate of facing a brand new day
I went to the bank with Frank
He couldn’t understand
why there were three service windows
and only one teller
We were in the queue of five
It was quite a stressful morning for Frank
It started with my hair colour
Frank pointed at my hair
“Your hair should be black”
He said that to me
every time I wanted to start a sentence
I felt bad
I forgot to tell him before hand
I spooked him with dark blonde hair
on an asian face
It wasn’t logical
Frank was right
My hair should be black
Frank started to pace up and down the queue
“Three windows, one person
it doesn’t add up”
He looked at me
“You hair should be black”
I suggested we went out to the park
left the banking for another day
We walked in the Autumn air
I put my green beanie on
Frank and I shared cookies
underneath a liquid amber
near an empty skateboard park
We counted the cookies
before we enjoyed them
four on each layer
two layers in the Tupperware
four cookies each we had
To Frank
that made perfect sense
Parents! We don’t have a problem child. What we do have is an ungrateful heart.
A child is God’s gift to us by grace. We did nothing to deserve a child who is precious and beautiful in every way.
Children are here to help us to grow up, to be mature and nurturing adults, and to live our full potential as human beings.
If we refuse to grow up, refuse to accept that they are here to teach us, to challenge us, instead, we bully them, blame them to be the problem of our arrogance, ignorance and obstinacy, to label them to be the problem child, we are in fact the biggest loser.
In our childish and foolish ways, we get into competition with our own flesh and blood, we grow jealous of their innocence, wisdom and talents. We are unable to humble ourselves to let our children to try, to shine, and to thrive. We wonder why we grow harsh, stone hearted and despair. It is impossible to please an ungrateful heart.
Love our children as they first love us unconditionally. 💕
Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him. – Psalm 127:3
I remember you
Flanders red
young zealous souls marched forward
in the name of God
left your virgin first love
gave you all in exchange for honour
hoped to return to your lover’s arms
in victory
in purity
I remember you
Flanders red
restless young men found despair
in the valley of the shadow of death
your fear soaked night terrors
robbed you of peace
traded you for mercy
when your blood turned cold
in the abandon field
so did your lover’s tears
turned to snow
I remember you
Flanders red
skeletal hollow men dragged your knees
thirsty, hungry, insomniac
fell on the door steps
of your lover’s house
greeted by someone else’s wife
what could you possibly take from a dead man
Ephesians 6:12 English Standard Version (ESV) For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.
Flicker of Thoughts 