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Kuwait

1977. Was the Queens Jubilee,also eventfull year flew down from Teeside to London Heathrow,for an overnight stay an onward journey to Kuwait, my father prime in the proffession he did scaffolding coordintor,myself and sister Tracy were only kids. Not many children get an oppertunity, stemming a family memory weeks rolled on, settling into school,became normality. I couldn`t put into perspective,developing indepth pining for home,muslim life portraying what i missed. However,amongst the feelings of uncertainty,and meeting my new mates building dens behind bungalows,from old shipping crates. We would attend The Hubara Club,an update leisure complex untold amounts to occupy youths,skateboarding main context. Not forgetting my mother,and mundane everyday tasks muslim laws preventing,normality, has to ask simplicity took for granted,from showing arms of pale amongst kuwaiti public,the women wearing veils. Christmas that year, will be forever etched an altercation between perants,that i`d rather not fetch. Kuwait a beautiful country,Twin Towers of Ahmedi without sounding ungrateful,home i`d rather be.
Paul Beadnall for Sponsor Paula Swanson Contest Name Opened Doors

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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Date: 8/31/2011 7:58:00 AM
I have been reading some very overwhelming poetry this morning Paul. I have enjoyed reading yours and hope to be reading more of it soon. Love, Carol
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