Mary Krekamoo

Strangers in my heart, they come and go
Each from countries unknown,
Some come bearing gifts, some come lost souls needing restoration..
Travellers in my heart each time i Harbour one i hope he'll make it home..
...

I get lost by just looking into your eyes,
A perfect blend of flare and glare
A mixture of innocence and brilliance glow
And am Lost in words to tell a tale
...

A mother and daughter set out to farm
In a bag mother carried maize seeds and yams,
The morning breeze was far from warm,
Their patches of clothes worn and torn,
...

Is like a chisel meets a sculptor,
Curving a piece of wood into a world to discover
Hand making artifacts for others to admire
Each cut with a polish of hope
...