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Erica

 
The year was 1933,
'Twas in mid winter, bleak,
A tiny infant breathed her first,
Seemed no time, she could speak.

The years, they passed so quickly,
This babe, her stages, grew,
From infant, child, teenager,
Then adult, 'fore we knew.

She studied well, at college,
To 'teacher training' went,
Not knowing then, throughout the globe,
That she would soon be sent.

First Nations, in Ontario,
Then Nova Scotia, too,
Across 'the pond', Somalia,
And China, spent a few.

Her passport, it was filling,
But yet, she added more,
Kyrgyzstan,Great Britain,
Life sure was NOT a bore.

When working days were over,
Remained, that 'travel bug',
With visits to Malaysia,
U.K., did heartstrings, tug.

The Far East, also welcomed,
Even in retired years,
The Maldives, even Germany,
Now brings her 'joyful tears'

So now, we send warm greetings,
Decades have passed, a few,
With you, we want to celebrate,
You've now reached NINETY TWO
                                 Colin Ross



Composed for a friend of a S.M.C. members wife. 


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