Beneath the surface of the blue, blue sea
Is a place I love to be,
...
I sit and look at photographs
And say I love you so
A thousand miles between our laughs
Yet they travel to and fro
...
Written by Reg Brewer, my father in 1922 when he was 17.
These are words he choose to live by - me too.
...
Once upon a time
We climbed from primordial slime.
Was it one cell, or two?
Well - at most just a few
...
Once I could laugh with anyone
Because, you see, I had a Sun
Her beauteuos rays would light my life
I wished that she would be my wife
...
Emerging from the doldrums
reaching for the light,
is it worth the trouble?
is it worth the fight?
...
This day is your day
And I hope that it will bring
Happiness and gladness
And the freshness of the spring
...
True love – I’m sure there’s not such thing
Romances the tune of sorrow sing
So never give your heart away
For your love is bound to stray
...
The sun carresses this granite isle
Where quietness rules the day.
The other world is sometimes grim,
here we smile, it is the Seychelles way.
...
Carolyn depends on you
And because of that many others do too.
She has touched and brightened so many lives
You must make sure that our Carolyn thrives.
...
I sometimes think I’m going mad
It must be this poetic fad,
Everything I say or do
Seems to rhyme in lines of two.
...
Why will man ask why?
Why this, and why that,
Why is the earth held in the sky?
Why is a fat man fat?
...
Oh, how did we get here from there
From the love that we shared yesteryear
Do you remember the good times
We shared in the old times?
...
Beneath The Waves - Seychelles Islands
Beneath the surface of the blue, blue sea
Is a place I love to be,
Shall I bring lobster home for tea?
In the quiet beauty of the deep,
In that serenity, a ray, sand covered – is he asleep?
No, ever watchful, he wakes, shakes, departs
A hawksbill turtle, gliding by on flippered wings
Ever hunted to make those tourist things.
The beauty of his polished shell his death knell rings
Now the delicate coral garden reveals
Vibrant fish, gentle anenomes, horried eels,
And the beauty of slow cowrie shells
A giant grouper, stationary, guards his lair
Do I retreat, go up for air?
Or approach with caution and return his stare
A shark comes slowly into view,
Sleek, grey, yet fast and deadly - what shall I do?
If he is hungry - I’ll be his luncheon barbecue
What a wonderful feeling he has for words Terry's Mum