Poem; A place in the sun.

Singapore, an island in the sun,
You and I went there when we
Were young. You took your life
In your hands in a taxi, along
the Bukitima Road, and no one
Ever knew if they would arrive home!
The people were friendly, living in
Their capons, content without
Having much, but smiles on their faces,
And had such graces.
We took trips across the causeway,
Into another land, stilted houses
Along the waterfront, nothing grand.
And blue sky everywhere, along
The jungle roads exploring, it was
Never boring.
And every day came the 'gilly- gilly'
Man, puffing up the hill, I can see
Him still, sweating yet smiling,
But never did he moan, telling
Me all about, family and home.
"Missy, plenty children, ten,
I work to feed them. Old Mother,
And Father too, sometimes I don't
Know what to do, it's such
A heavy load."
Singapore city had its own charm,
No skyscrapers back then, but
Venders selling food from their stalls,
They had it all.
When the monsoons came, with
Heavy rain, it was steaming hot,
And you could not see through it.
We spent two and a half years
There, in the hot sun, not always fun,
But, it opened our eyes to the other
Half, so far away, that I remember
It well, to this very day.

Augustine Nash.