Beau-a-oo-a-oo-a-oo-a-oo-a-oo ... -tiful sou-a-oo-a-oo-a- ... -oup :-) :>)
It's just occurred to me that Freshtival might as well have a little tea tent, supplying a range of soups, teas, coffees, cakes, and other baked goods. 'Yay!' :>)
☕️🍰
And here is my poem about dear Sir K., composed on his 25th birthday and revised a little this pm:
Sir K. Birthday
The year was 1990 and the month was mildest May;
one Sunday afternoon I started sewing dear Sir K.
I didn't know his name at first, but I so loved his look,
as on the cover of the How To Make Your Koala book.
He came in lots of pieces – head and limbs, then front and back,
and ears, one side all fluffy, beady eyes, a nose of black;
I fetched a needle from my crafts-box, found my dark brown thread,
put on the new Top 40, and began to make his head.
An hour whizzed by – the task complete, I placed him on my fist;
much work to come, according to the long instructions list,
but at this point I paused and laughed and laughed for quite a while,
for somehow I had given him the most infectious smile.
I went downstairs; my mum was out, my brothers up the hill,
but Dad was in the garage, doing something with a drill;
I sneaked up with my koala-head, and 'Arrrgh!' went Mr T.,
then chuckled, 'Hmm! He's pretty good!’, which felt high praise to me.
Then, 'Teatime!', called my mum, and so I ran to show her too;
she laughed as well, said he looked nice, asked what was next to do.
I thought I'd try his front, a hexagon of whitest white,
although the bros said, 'Leave him as a head; he'll be alright!'
An intermission then occurred, a busy week at school,
but Saturday I fixed the front and made a koala-ghoul;
he chased the brothers round the house, till Dad said, 'Right, that's it!'
and sent us to our rooms, where I resumed the koala kit.
I sewed another hour or so, and all fell into place –
the koala now had body, limbs, as well as head and face;
I tiptoed down the stairs with him, found Mum at kitchen sink,
and showed my work; she laughed so much, her face became all pink!
And Dad was playing Joplin as we brought his slice of toast;
he looked relieved that there'd be no more games of 'Koala Ghost',
then improvised on 'Maple Leaf' and Sir K. danced and cheered;
it seemed a brand new age had dawned, and it was good and weird.
💗💗💗
Sir K. is now 31 years old, and just a few months older than Arthur Arthritis. He remains a family favourite and has helped me through quite a lot of health problems over the years :-)
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