Namaste to Nepal, and your hallowed Himalayas
We came here to immerse, in your  heavenly layers
More than mountain reliefs
But our inner beliefs
For of peace and love, you’re the finest purveyors
…

Ageing or aging, its spelling matters not
It beats the alternative, if health we haven’t got
It’s not for us choose
Who gets to win or lose
The roulette of fortune, rules when we’ve had our lot
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To whom it may concern, my curriculum vitae
Career opportunities, I could never repay
I’ve worked hard to live
Now it’s time to give
Thanks to all those who joined, this vocational relay
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There is no love quite like, this father’s for his kids
A dad’s deep devotion, is a child’s first dibs
My son and each daughter
Blood thicker than water
Life changed from each moment, they were babes in their cribs
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I was born in the fabled Land of the Long White Cloud
That multi-ethnic nation, where Māoridom is proud
The place of the hangi
The Treaty of Waitangi
And where the All Blacks’ haka, stirs passion in the crowd
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Kwa heri Kilimanjaro, with love and affection
An amazing adventure, of fondest reflection
A metaphorical steeple
And Tanzanian people
Who enabled our journey, and set the direction
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From the African plains, it pierces the sky
Five thousand eight hundred, mighty metres high
Tall in elevation
Long in contemplation
Hoping to scale it, at the end of July
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I proudly watched my daughter, bounding down the steep hill
Emotions overflowing, with the absolute thrill
This graceful gazelle
Was running so well
That on this Great Ocean Road, time suddenly stood still
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To this tranquil beach, I imagined that you came
I search out to sea, for that sign of you again
Our feelings ripped raw
Still cut to the core
Life without you Bev, will never be the same
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I fear I would have been buried alive
If my alpine rescuers hadn’t arrived
Precious years since weathered
Rope no longer tethered
But kinfolk never knew, of the fall I survived
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Dangling deep down in the dungeon of a Swiss crevasse
I had fallen through the jaws of a glacial morass
Precariously below
A huge overhang of snow
It could crush me any moment, that murderous mass
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Absolutely last travellers’ cheques, cashed in for a flat
On a tiny attic floor, could not swing a cat
Soon London became us
With the 88 bus
Local pubs and a Tube station; how good was all that?
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We slumped on the plane, staring blindly into spaces
Silently reflecting on farewell embraces
Ophie and I, twenty-four
The whole world to explore
While tears were trickling down red-eyed faces
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My mother wanted me to be a bookkeeper
Leave school, get a job, fend off the grim reaper
And then settle down
In my country hometown
The more she suggested, my heels dug deeper
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Farming defined my father; his character, his crutch
With land and community, totally in touch
A farmer through and through
It was all that he knew
So when we left the farm, he grieved it very much
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Here’s the story of my heritage, in Aotearoa
When lives were primitive, harder and slower
My family forebears
Were farming pioneers
Bought a farm in Ohauiti, and made it a goer
…