Life is a flower

Life is a flower,
At first it's a struggle.
Dormant for years,
Then sun sparks a surge.

It's tough to emerge,
The thorns lay around,
And brambles lay thick
As the rabbits nibble down.

But come better days,
When shoots become stems,
And stems become trunks
For the resting Wren.

What then, but to flower?
And flowers will grow.
But sometimes in life,
Blossom springs through the snow.

Merci, Auntie Kath, et adieu

In little clothes with little bags,
Each Wednesday better than the last,
We'd wait at school for Auntie Kath
And then in Harwood search for snacks.

We took them back and set up shop,
The kitchen table littered with chocolate.
But none for us, until we'd asked
For sweets in French, then paid in Francs.

Je voudrais un mars bar s'il vous plait,
Bien sûr, monsieur, et voila.
Je suis desolé, mais qu'est-ce que c'est?
C'est la barre Mars que vous avez demandé!

I loved those days and every week
Aunt Kath bequeathed more words to speak.
She made it so much fun, as well,
Her enthusiasm shone, and still now it tells.

I learned so much from Auntie Kath,
Of how to teach, and inspire, with laughs.
It was never a chore, it was always a blast,
And it's testament to Kath that her teaching lasts.

Quite rightly, Kath, takes all the praise,
For our GCSE and A-level grades.
She taught me more by year nine,
Than school could teach me in twice the time.

Although I can't speak fluently,
- Let's face it, Joanne was always better than me -
I've friends in France, and when there's chance,
It all comes back so easily.

Thank you Kath, for all those days,
For all those words which we can say.
I miss those days, but I'll miss you more,

Merci, Auntie Kath, et adieu.