My Pretty Little Garden

Among my flowers in solitude I sit
Reminiscing memories bitter sweet
Here with loving hands I grow the flowers of my dreams
Pretty multi coloured blooms and everlasting greens

Small in size though my garden may be
It’s home to butterflies, birds and busy bees
Nestled among my impatiens, lilies and marigolds
Are toadstools, little houses and garden gnomes

Fresh buds open in my garden wet with dew
Glistening in the morning light when the sun is new
Dragonflies frolick away among my many blooms
Fairies hide from the light in their tiny mushrooms

As night descends and all is still
The crickets wake with their calls so shrill
They join in the fairies with their dance and song
Which makes flower buds open in the early morn

And so my garden thrives from dawn to dusk
And will be home to insects and garden pests
Snails and caterpillars all have a home
A little hacienda to call their own.


~ Liz Sammy-Chin ~

My Alma Mater..........CHIJ, Ipoh

The Convent Spirit lives on and on
In all of us Convent girls who have come and gone
Through the Irish sisters’ disciplining hands
To them and our teachers, our gratitude we now send

A beautifully structured building is our dear school
Where we learnt our lessons as well as the rules
The two big halls ring echoes of the past
Of applause at concerts and exams too, alas !

The canteen was the favourite meeting place
Of girls rushing for food and eating in haste
We have to finish our meal before the bell goes
Then we’ll have to rush for assembly and line up in rows.

In our own little square that was our assembly ground
Long concrete seats were built all around
Tall angsana trees their shade they lend
Where the girls congregated and met up with friends

Each morning we parked our bicycles in the bicycle shed
Next to it stood a beautiful tree whose fruit was like bread
Before school began to chapel we’d go
Where pews were arranged in neat little rows

Prayers were said at assembly each day
And Rev. Mother would have her own little say
Walking to class two by two and hand in hand
When our teachers came in, we would all stand

Our school fun fair was a famous event
As we sold the coupons, erected stalls and tents
The St. Michael’s School boys thronged to our school
Eyeing pretty Convent girls, while keeping their cool

And now we are told that the story must end
The nostalgic memories, the Convent, the land
Must now all go, for someone has sold
‘Twas such a waste, coz our history is gold.

~ Liz Sammy-Chin ~

My School Days

The Convent gates were big and wide
And as I passed through I just couldn’t hide
My fears, my tears and home was where I want to be
But then I realized that other little girls felt just like me

To Class Standard One “B” I was sent
Slate and chalk were used instead of pens
ABCs written on the board
We had books to buy, we could ill afford

Bell rings and my heart gets lighter
Going home now, hope tomorrow’s better
So the days turn to weeks and into years
And the little girl grows out of her clothes but not her fears

Though nostalgically I think of my days in school
I’ve thought too strict and stern were set the rules
But on hindsight now, I’m glad they were
“Cos I’ve turned out well, like the rest of my peers.

~ Liz Sammy-Chin ~

A Prayer for Don

On our knees we knelt to pray
For our son, Don who is far away
We asked you Lord to care for him
To keep him safe from harm and sin

Today we’re elated at his good review
As it only happens to a select few
Diligently he worked the last three years
To get ahead of most his peers

Dear Lord I know this is thanks to Thee
You’ve listened and answered our humble plea
And Lord I pray you’ll guide his ways
His navigator in life may You always stay.

~ Liz Sammy-Chin ~

Games we used to play

As I look back to a time long ago
Long before computers and tv shows
There were simple games children used to play
Hours were spent outdoor throughout the day

There were seven stones, hop scotch and skipping ropes
Coconut fronds were used to slide down slopes
What fun we had when we played hide and seek
When others hide, one person counted and he musn’t peek

Skipping to ropes, there were so many rhymes
We’d skip and sing while counting to time
These skipping ropes were strung from rubber bands
The richer children used double strands

Hopscotch would be played before school began
Squares and circles would be drawn on the sand
Some kind of token had to be thrown
A string of beads, a bunch of shells or any old stone

With seven stones, we’d sit on the floor
A game you can play with one person or more
You toss one stone and pick up another
You would have lost if you dropped either

So many more I can’t recall
But any of these were more fun than the Mall
I think children had more fun in the good old days
The games were all free, there was nothing to pay.

~ Liz Sammy-Chin ~

Down Memory Lane

Way back in the fifties, my sister and I
Walked all the way to school till there were aches in our thighs
We walked past the St.Michael’s School and onto the river bank
And the nearer to school , the more my heart sank

Then we’ll cross the bridge at Brewster Road
Peeking into the river hoping to see boats
A mile more to go before the convent we’ll reach
And by the time we arrive we’ll be red as a peach

We’d walk on the five foot ways to hide from the sun
And sometimes if we were late, we needed to run
Shifting our school bags from our right hand to left
Giving each arm a chance for a rest

Then, we’d walk past the Po Garden Lane
To go through this lane alone would be insane
For this is a notorious dangerous pass
Girls have been molested late after class

And now the school gates are within view
The school bell hasn’t gone yet, we’re early; Phew!
Right after school from the back gate we’d leave
To the ice-cream seller we would proceed

We’d love to have “rojak” but didn’t have cash
So we’d just spin for the ice-cream and had to be rash
And through the Po Garden Lane my sister and I
Would rush our steps for bad people hide

On treetops and branches eyeing to pounce
On girls who are alone, their presence announce
So if you were wise, don’t ever pass
This lane alone if you’ve been late after class

And as we walked on, our throats started to dry
So to the tap at Borneo Motors as we had to walk by
It’s sweet cool waters tasted so pure
A long way from home, but now we can endure

And so the story goes for many more years
Until the day we had bicycles like the rest of our peers
That made the journey to school much easier then
This is our story from beginning to end

But now so much have changed
No girls would need to use the Po Garden Lane
‘Cause the area is now big, open and wide
No more places for bad people to hide

So ends the story of Po Garden Lane
But it’s memories and stories will always remain.

~ Liz Sammy-Chin ~

Daydreams

All alone you’re left with just your dreams
Building castles in the air and something in between
Thoughts of bygone days drifting in your mind
Seeking peace for the world and humankind

Keep those daydreams safely in the attic of your soul
For in time, they’ll come true, so keep the reins on hold
And in your heart may these dreams become alive
Cut out the bitter truth that stabs you like a knife

Take time to dream long and dream deep
Your dreams like prayers the Lord will heed
Do not dismiss the power of the subconscious mind
Your wildest dreams come true, with faith and hope combined.

~ Liz Sammy-Chin ~