Those Winter Saturdays (miming Robert Hayden’s Those Winter Sundays)

Saturdays my mother got up early

and cooked breakfast in the chilly cold kitchen

then with coarse wrinkled hands that ached

from labor as a cleaning lady woke me up.

I never thanked her.

I would crawl out of bed 

and hear the cold wind howling

After I washed myself and had my breakfast

She would dress me in my school uniform

and help me put on a pair of white stockings.

Listening indifferently to her

Who escorted me to take the school bus at dawn

and ironed my uniform as well

What did I know, what did I know

Of love that’s so tender inside.

How I fall in love with the English language

The sound of the English language is like the sound of music.

And speaking English is like singing or playing music.

When I first learned to pronounce the English words, I chewed and played the words in my mouth until I could speak them correctly.

Afterwards, I learned to speak in sentences. The fluency, rhythm and intonation are cheerful to my ears. I feel like listening to music.

And I like the sound that I produce in my mouth when I am reading aloud because I feel like I am singing or playing music with my mouth.

So, it seems to me that listening and speaking are the very interesting way of learning the English language well.



I used to hate spring when I was small

because the weather is precarious

I would doubt the law of nature that

brings rain at the beginning of the new year.

Mum used to say

every beginning starts with hard work and hardship

So spring always feels like a bad omen.

Now spring has come again

It brings rain to our dry land

Fogs and drizzles cloud the sight afar

That we can’t see much ahead;

But while l am listening to the raindrops falling

The dripping is like music to our ears

dancing on the ground

Sitting on my armchair

I help myself a cup of hot coffee

The sweetness and sourness ferment and melt in my mouth.

The moment reveals that

we can still enjoy small joys in the midst of hardship

That sustains and carries us through to

the end of the year.

At the age of thirty-nine,

I really like spring.

My little angel

My little angel

My little angel

She is natural

Like the darling buds 

The gentle breeze of May

She is pure

Like the exquisite water

The gleaming light of sliver

She likes to coo and woo 

“Mama Mama I love you”

Giggle and chuckle

Playing “Daddy Daddy I see you”

Today she turns 1 year old

“Happy Birthday to You!”

These eternal lines shall

Declare our dear love unto you.

I miss that night

I miss that night

I miss that night.

I remember it was very cold and

I was in total despair

huddling at a table outside a closed University café 

dimly lit by an array of lonely lampposts 

reading some poems given by my course tutor

so bad and so sad

that I couldn’t say a thing.

You said nothing either 

but gave me a bowl of hot noodles 

that you cooked at your place of study. 

I devoured like a dog

Hungry for the food of truth and love

Which I got a real taste of it for the first time

In your presence 

That was probably the moment I fell for you.

Composed upon St John’s Cathedral, Hong Kong 2022

Composed upon St John’s Cathedral, Hong Kong 2022

In the early morning

While the city is still sleeping

Several souls wake up to the ancient bell

striking in the heart of Central district

Taking pilgrim’s steps ascending the narrow pathway

to the century old gothic church 

fearfully approaching the majestic throne

kneeling down to pray for the many blessings 

that have bestowed on the island for over a century

nurturing thousands of mighty souls 

who safeguard the Pearl of the Orient

which shines through the aisle of history

leaving its people a page of its beauty and glory

now and forever.

Stream of Consciousness

Stream of Consciousness

I like to swim

freely and deeply 

in my mind

sometimes like a ship 

sailing quietly in the ocean

around the world

sometimes like a young lovely couple 

paddling in the lake

feeling the blow of autumn wind

under the warm cozy sun

but other times like a submarine

immersing in the abyss

losing its way

or like a little boat 

shaking up and down

in the middle of a stormy sea

There are good times and bad times 

I still enjoy seeing things

within and without

in the journey of mind.

A Day Out

Sometimes life throws dirt at you

And it can be quite absurd to you

You question if you should go on

But there seems to be no answer

Time is drifting away

You are getting old

Your body is failing

You ache inside 

But the other day 

When you have a day out with your husband and daughter 

Walking along the Victoria Harbour

Taking in the place where you have lived for so long

You have got the answer.

“I still love life. Yes, I still do.”

My shoes

My shoes have trodden less travelled ways

The bumpy roads have made them old and weary

Now less fit to surmount the high rocks and spiky dangers of the mountains

In an attempt to reach the summit

Which, most of the time shrouded by shadows and clouds

leaving you stuck and unable to see the whole wide view –

Yet, more content and gentle to enjoy the familial trails of the endearing hills

where the easy-going winding roads sometimes surprise you with dotted trees of red leaves

or lead you to a hidden whole-new-world sea view

or just offer you a pleasant sight of a peaceful lake or a cheerful falling stream.

Thank you to my shoes that have come so far and brought me to where I am now.