Eloy

Hello. Won’t go on about the failure of November – suffice it to say the story was like bile congealed into words. I should’ve chosen something much more fun and easygoing as my subject.

November’s a silly month to do this kind of thing anyway. As a result, I’m going to do a self-imposed NaNoWriMo in February. I still have all the encouraging emails that famous authors send out to get you to keep writing. And I didn’t open them. So I’ll open them all in February in the appropriate weeks, and let’s see if I can write a fun and trashy comedy about “Persuasion and Pirates“. Or something.

So. I’ve got a godson! I don’t have any decent photos of him yet, but I’ll get some soon.  He’s the son of my friends Claire and Paulo. I met Claire on my first day in Spain, and Paulo soon after, and we’ve been friends ever since. It’s kind of an unofficial godfatherhood, as they’re not getting Eloy baptised, but I still have the title. Went to see him in hospital when he was less than a day old, the teeny cutey, and came home and wrote this sickly sweet poem, and promptly sent it off to Paulo, who read it to Claire, and she cried, so it reached its target audience. With that in mind, I don’t care if you guys think it’s crap. Although I think the last verse is pretty shoddy.

Me and Eloy

Life

It starts in the soul
(though some disagree),
this brimming and bubbling
feeling of glee.

It climbs up the throat
and reaches your lips,
grabs hold of each corner
and pulls to the tips,

spins up through your brain
and out of your top
and down to your toes
you think it won’t stop

’til all of you’s filled
with a powerful glow
of feeling so strong
it will soon overflow –

a baby is born,
and with this new life,
new life smiles within
both you and your wife.

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