The room darkens as the sunlight begins to fade
A scent, so dearly-missed, growing into a parade
I rush to the window and turn up to the sky
Seeing dark dense clouds coming by and by
I pull back the latch and turn the key
Revealing the sight of the blurry city
The air is thick with smoke and dust
But it’s alright, rain has come at last
I catch the first drop in my open eye
My skin has long feel grimy and dry
Another drop on my cheek, my arm, my nose!
Now pouring by tankfuls, how fast it goes!
I bring out the buckets and whatever that would hold
The much needed water, so refreshingly cold!
Though the shower is blurring the sight of my gaze
I can see it eating up most of the smog and haze
The land has long been cracked and arid
Such delight to see drains now gushing like rapids
My clothes now drenched clinging heavily to my body
Unknowingly absorbing the toxic from the city
My dearest sister, Anisah Afifah (or better known at home as Fah or Kafah), had just turned 9 on the 5th December, 2009. This poem is especially written as a birthday gift for Fah 🙂 .
On the 5th December 2009,
Everybody seems to be very kind,
I do not need to wonder why,
Although it’s suppose to be a surprise.
Because it is my birthday today!
I saw my presents on the floor yesterday,
They were waiting patiently as I had my dinner,
But still, I can always check my calender.
I’ve got a Hello Kitty Jigsaw puzzle,
From mum in a really, really big parcel,
And the beads weaving machine from dad,
Is the best present I’ve ever had.
Don’t be sad Kaman and Kashah too,
I also love my fishes from you,
And thanks for the dresses you gave me, Ali,
I’m really happy and as glad as can be!
Check out the links below to read more about Fah’s birthday written by…
Aeshah (my sister): http://aeshahadlina.wordpress.com/2009/12/09/happy-birthday-fah/
Anisah (the birthday girl herself): http://anisahafifah.wordpress.com/2009/12/09/my-birthday-2/
Ahmad Ali (my brother): http://ahmadalikarim.wordpress.com/2009/12/05/happy-birthday-kafah-2/
A poem written especially for Uncle Osman, Aunty Yaman and Sister Arwa from Khartoum, Sudan…
What should I make?
Should I draw or paint?
Make a glittering card?
Oh, but that’s hard.
A watercolour painting!
Of the seaside in the evening!
It would remind Sister Arwa
Of her visit to Malaysia.
But I don’t paint that well,
Oh, the flowers from the hotel!
For Aunty Yaman!
Yes, that would be fun.
No, flowers I cannot draw,
Especially those that we saw,
A portrait of Ali for Uncle Osman?
So he can see Ali from Sudan?
The ideas came and away they leave,
I still can’t think of what to give.
After an hour of nothing but waiting,
I finally have thought of something
I guess it’s the best I could come out with,
This piece of poem shall be my gift.