My two favourite words in the whole English Language are: Creativity and Imagination.

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Tell Me Your Story, Europe -

Poem representing Malta in Café D’Europe on May 9th, 2006



Where lands of snow and mountains,

Meet lands of sun and hills.

And Old World fashions,

Meet High-Tech skills.


Union of islands and peninsula.

Much-storied continent of countries,

From the Mediterranean-surrounded Malta,

To the Atlantic-waved Emerald Isle

Let us, her children, share her stories,

And ponder for a while.


For a wonderful whisper of stories,

Told and retold, are found.

In this magical mixture of countries,

Tales and legends, abound.


Where a wooden toy

Turns to a real boy.


A mad man chases windmills

Until hope fulfills.


Poorest Jack kills the Giant,

While cutting down the beanstalk.


Bullied Cinderella marries the prince,

As her step-mother becomes a laughing-stock.



Europe, the girl who spins straw to gold,

Is an open book of many adventures to unfold.

Like the Maltese beautiful bride-to-be,

And her miraculous escape from true slavery.


Yes! Many times Europe has sinned,

While thick-skinned cruel men have grinned.

But now, we have all become storytellers,



And peace- imaginers.


The Master Storyteller says that

only the Truth can set us free,

Armed with a story,

That captures our hearts, from Time and Memory,

We aim for the good that is, and hopefully will be.


From here on forward, the future begins.

Not to fear. For in our stories,

The hero always wins.

Our children need heroes and fairies,

A cultural heritage so robust,

As they live in a united homeland they truly need to trust.


Come! For yesterday, you were my enemy,

But today you are my friend.

Tell me your country’s much –loved story,

With a Happily-Ever-After at the end.

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Unique Snowflakes


That night the snow came.

It came to conquer New York City.

First, ever so lightly, but then it came like an invading icy army falling unto the ground.

Snowflakes burst out of the sky not knowing when they will settle or where they are bound to.

Wind-swept but fragile, the snowflakes drift effortlessly.

They are little icy miracles from the sky.

Yet some soon descend swiftly on smooth surfaces, structuring hills of delicate snow.

While others plunge onto the city streets where moving vehicles will turn into a grayish slush.

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