Simply The Best!

HAPPYBIRTHDAY

There are two dates in November that are special to my family: the 10th and the 14th.

Mrs Mom always told us that me, Fatimah and Ali were lucky to have a second mother.

Fatimah and Ali used to ask who that other mother was, but I knew just the person Mrs Mom was talking about. Dr Auntie, Mrs Mom’s elder sister, was someone who had been there for us right from the start. She’s not just your average auntie! Out of everybody on Earth, I haven’t met anybody that could replace her! She’s loving and understanding, and it seems that her heart is made of pure gold.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a day go by without Mrs Mom and Dr Auntie talking to each other, and by that, I don’t mean just once, I mean at least 10 times (or 100, I lose count)! Mrs Mom and Dr Auntie are tightly knit and are very close sisters; I think we only ever need to make a phone call if we’re in urgent need of help! Sometimes, Mrs Mom doesn’t break any good news to us until Dr Auntie is tuned in and listening! And that is how important she is to the family!

Another great trait that makes Dr Auntie ‘Dr Auntie’ is that she’ll never say no, and will do anything to fulfil our needs. I think that if I asked her for £1,000,000, she’d rob a bank just for me (although, of course, she’s an honest and kind person, so I highly doubt that she’ll do anything of the sort. I really need to read those T’s and C’s.)!

I can still remember how she used to always find a way to make me happy when I was little. She knew I was the kind of kid that absolutely LOVED opening presents, so, on top all the other presents she’d got for my birthday, she’d take the wrapping paper and wrap anything she could find – literally. Books, socks, pens, plates. In fact, I still recall one account where I was surprised with a biscuit! Isn’t she sweet?

There’s many other qualities that make her probably the best auntie ever (subject to prejudice and sheer adoration!), so it’s no wonder nobody was like her! She’s my biggest inspiration and is somebody that always tries hard! She won’t give up and will not stop at anything to help her family! She’s definitely the role model to follow! Now, coming back to those two special dates in November, the 14th marks Dr Auntie’s birthday! The whole family looks forward to this day, because it’s that time of the year when we can really thank her for everything she’s done for us!

Dr Auntie has, of course, done many favours for me too, so I have specially dedicated a poem to her, which, I must admit, is small compared to what she has done for me, but is my way of saying thank you. Dr Auntie, this is for you!

Simply The Best!

By The Pawsome Lion

Dedicated to Dr Auntie

There’s millions of people in the world,

But none of them are quite like you,

You’re funny, loving, you’ve got a heart of gold!

And you make us feel like “YAY!” when we’re blue

You’re always there when we need help,

We can just give you a yelp!

A mother you are similar to,

It seems there’s nothing you can’t do!

You’re always by our side,

In the dark, you’re our brightening guide!

And I’d gladly go on and on,

Because when you’re around, no hope is gone!

But it is somebody’s special day,

And it’s a reason for you to shout HOORAY!

Because HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

It’s YOUR special day!

Happy birthday, Dr Auntie! May God make this the best birthday ever!

p/s: Dear Dr Auntie, please pray for my interview, so I can bring back the biggest birthday present of all!

Your favourite nephew (self-claimed! 😁),

Omar Mukhtar – The Pawsome Lion

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11 Reasons Why You’re Great!

mamajee's birthday 2017.jpg

Dear Mamajee,

Now here’s some reasons why you’re the best uncle,

There’s quite a lot, 11, to be exact!

Now, for a start, you’re always caring,

Always loving to all of us!

Number two!

You bring happiness with you,

And three, you’re so talented in cooking,

Your food? It’s basically heaven in a spoonful!

Next up’s the way you’re always by our side,

You’re also smiling, cheering us up!

You brightened up every dark corner,

Your laugh is just the thing to make us grin!

Whenever I think of stars, I remember your eyes,

Your hugs are warm,

Your jokes are so funny!

And to end it all here, you’re so loving!

You’re almost like our father!

And yes, I could go on and on!

Like the fact that you’ll never say no,

Or how you’ll fly across the world just for us!

But I just want to say,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

And thanks for everything you’ve done for us and more!

From your nephew,

The Pawsome Lion,

On behalf of Fatimah and Ali

p/s: Dear Mamajee, remember where we took this picture? My birthday gift to you is some very good news…

Under The Lake

under the lake photo

Every day is just about the same for me. Wake up, brush my teeth, wash my face, grab an apple and walk straight into that 300-foot deep lake outside.

I work under the surface – well, when I say under, I mean on the other side. There’s plenty of other people that come too, it’s part of life for us. We work for Death, writing reports on certain people that are assigned to us, then calculating their life expectancy. Death has less on his plate because of us, so all he needs to do is fix his schedule.

Everything we do, think and feel is written on our bodies as soon as we pass through the portal. When we resurface, the writing disappears. Death pays us quite a fair salary each week, so life is sweet. There’s just one catch: whenever I start work, my skin is empty.

Death doesn’t favour me as much as the others, even though my wages are the same. There was another one like me, but she died sometime before I started. They call us Outsiders, which is pretty rude, but I don’t care.

I was always empty-skinned until that one day when my life seemed to change forever. I went through the same morning routine: brush teeth, wash face, eat apple, walk into lake. I just didn’t know that under the lake, it would be different.

The first few steps in are through the water barrier, then we should arrive on the other side. This time around, though, the journey seemed longer, and as I delved deeper and deeper, I could make out the distinctive shape of a person in the distance, a man, tall and skinny. He gradually came closer and closer, until I could see his face. It was Death himself, and he had grabbed hold of my hand. Before he pushed me up to the surface, he uttered four words: “You, master of me.”

And suddenly I was floating back up, and I flew out of the lake, landing on my feet. I wasn’t the slightest bit wet, as always. There was a piece of paper in my hand, reading:

Take my place under the lake.

Yours,

D.

And on my hand was a single word, as if written in black ink. ‘No need to ask for wages anymore.’ I thought to myself as I walked back to my cosy little home, smiling at my own hand, reading over and over again ‘Death’.

You Cannot Tell

you cannot tell ph2

I first saw him in the window of my living room. He was wearing a worn out, black bowler hat and a brown leather coat. His eyes were illuminated on his dark, shadowy face. He was carrying what seemed to be a blade. Other people would have been terrified but I just stood there, sort of transfixed by his appearance. He came the next night, this time looking into the kitchen. A red rose replaced the knife in his hand. I wondered why he was coming to my house. Perhaps he was homeless. It was 7 days later when I started to become worried, though. He had been coming to my house and looking through the windows for a whole week and on Monday he had come with a knife again – it had blood stains on the tip. I thought about calling the police, but would that make me his next victim? I shuddered. I decided to stay put in my bedroom, lock all the doors and shut all the curtains. I soon dozed off.

you cannot tell ph3

The next morning, I was no longer in my bedroom. I was on the floor of my living room. A chalk outline surrounded me. Nobody else was there. I was very confused. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something come out of the wall. It was shadowy, scruffy, a tall figure looming like a tower. I turned around and saw that it was the man that I had seen in the window, pale-faced and untidy. He was holding the same blood-stained knife; it glinted faintly in the dim light. He gave me an icy stare, then leapt at me. His knife jutted out and he cried out in rage. I screamed and rolled over to dodge him, the knife swishing past and narrowly missing my head. He dived through the floor, like it was some kind of eerie wooden swimming pool. I crawled backwards to the sofa, bewildered as to where he was. Suddenly, he sprang out, shouting in anger. His face was nearly scarlet, his scruffy eyebrows highly slanted. I flinched as he flew through the air towards me. His coat was splattered with flecks of blood. I wanted to move but it seemed like I was glued to where I was. He brushed my shoulder, but as soon as he laid his hand on me, a bright white light lit up the room. The man howled as his hand glowed red. It must have burned, seared, split his palm open. Slowly, he started to disappear, like smoke wafting away from its chimney. Oh, how he shrieked! The sound echoed around the room. It rang inside my ears, it slowly mauled my brain. I closed my eyes tightly, nearly gluing them shut. When I reopened them, I was alone in the room. Everything was silent. No blood. No knife. No hat. No man. Just me, in the room of the house. I could hear police sirens wailing outside. They reminded me of banshees, sobbing in mourning. Apparently, my neighbour had heard the screaming and shouting.

you cannot tell ph4

From then on, I was alone in my house. No one came to visit, no one stood outside the windows. But one day, the doorbell rang, and outside was a black bowler hat, a rose, a knife and a note:

‘You cannot tell.’

you cannot tell ph1

Create A Story – 11 Reasons Why I Love It

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As a writer, I’m always looking for ways to improve, however I need to. Then I came across Create A Story, a children’s creative writing book in the making, and guess what? They asked me to review their early preview of the book! It was an honour to be offered something such as this! I agreed and tried it out, and let me tell you this: it was PAWSOME! Create A Story is definitely the go-to book for children between 7-11 who are new to the world of writing, but even kids who have been writing stories for a long time will benefit from it! I must admit, even I did! And, as promised, I am sharing my thoughts on the early preview book. Below are the 11 reasons why I love Create A Story!

  1. A writing topic is given and clearly explained so you have a better image in your head of what you are going to be writing about.
  2. The story is split into sections, making it easier for you to plan each part.
  3. Examples of main characters, villains and optional pets are shown so you have more ideas about your own characters.
  4. Once you choose a main character, you analyse them step by step, from their personality to the items that they are carrying. Very helpful so you know what your character is going to do in the story.
  5. Powerful vocabulary is used in the explanations to enrich knowledge and tricky words are underlined with meanings given beside them.
  6. To prompt setting descriptions, small spaces for the five senses are used so you can note down what you see, smell, taste, feel and hear.
  7. A space for drawing the setting can be used so that you have a clearer image of it in your head.
  8. The book gives examples of high-level grammar features that could be used in the story. These features are practised in short learning activities.
  9. At the end of the planning, a tick list is shown for you to be able to check that you have everything for your story.
  10. Before beginning writing, fun facts about the writing topic are given so that they can be used in the story, bringing it more to life.
  11. And most importantly, it makes writing fun!

Once again, I would like to say that I definitely recommend Create A Story to children writer wannabes and those who want to improve their writing! Parents can buy this book for their children as its features are hugely beneficial , and I have enjoyed writing with it! Keep an eye out for its launch very soon!

p/s: Special thanks to Andrew Massingham for honouring me with the early preview of the book!

Create A Story

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Website: http://www.createastorybook.co.uk

Come Rain or Shine…

come rain or shine

Come Rain or Shine…

(A poem written by The Pawsome Lion)

~ Dedicated to Mr OCD Uncle, Dadajee & Khun Yai Thi Rak Khong Phom ~

Our laughter used to fill every room,

They’re now the carriers of our sweet memories

Our love was strong, so tightly knit,

It seemed impossible to get in the way

Our smiles were sunshine,

Our eyes were stars,

We brightened up every dark corner

But then one day, you went away

It broke my heart to say goodbye

And as you left me all alone,

I shared my sorrow with the sky

Its cold tears washed my face

And thunder rolled as my own dripped

It knew how I was feeling

But I know that you’ll come back

To make more memories,

To laugh even more

And I also know that come rain or shine,

I’ll still love you and you’ll still love me

Saturday, 16th September 2017

p/s: Photo of The Pawsome Lion, 3 years old – by Mr Dad © 2009

11 Things I Love About You

Dear Mr Dad,

The 17th of June has always been a date that our family looks forward to. Yes, it’s your birthday and it’s right next to Father’s Day (Lucky you!)! That’s why I’m writing this post!

Over the years, you’ve been a PAWSOME father and a great husband for Mrs Mom, and you’ve made a lot of sacrifices for us. Ever since I was born, you’ve been like my best friend and you haven’t failed to keep Little Miss Diva and Ali the Salt Bubba happy too! You’ve got a great sense of humour and you’ve got a heart of pure gold! You’ve supported us and loved us with all your heart and you’ve always stood by our side. You are a very -and I mean VERY – PAWSOME dad! After all, you are the one and only Mr Dad! So, we’d all like to say THANK YOU for everything you’ve done! We really appreciate it! And since it’s such a special occasion, I’ve written a lovely (hopefully you’ll find it that way) poem, just for you!

11 Things I Love About You

A poem written by Omar Mukhtar, The Pawsome Lion on behalf of the whole family

Fatimah The Little Miss Diva, Ali The Salt Bubba and Mrs Mom

I love the way you keep us happy,

The way you sing to us,

I love how you smile at us in the morning,

The way you advise us

I love the way you play chess with me,

The way you comb our hair,

I love how you know how to make us laugh,

The way you help with your great sense of fashion

I love the way you love Mrs Mom, 

And how you care for her,

But most importantly, I love the way you stand by our side

Which makes you a PAWSOME father!

And on this special day, I’d like to say…

Happy Birthday! Happy Father’s Day!

From your loving family!

Happy birthday and Happy Father’s Day, Mr Dad! We hope they both turn out to be great days! May God grant all of your wishes and make them the best days ever! 😀

p/s: Dear God,

Please reserve my dad the best place in heaven coz he totally deserves it!

🍰 A Piece of Cake: Noose

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The little village of Hangilton was a joyful place – or at least it used to be. Many years ago, a girl named Lucy hung herself from a tree next to her tiny wooden shop. Since then, nobody went near the tree or the shop.

Alex, a boy of 18 years of age, lived in a shack in Hangilton. He had heard such bloodcurdling stories of people who had dared to step near the tree from which Lucy hung herself. Alex was very curious about Lucy. He decided that he would go to see the tree that night. He waited until everyone was asleep then set off, armed with his blade.

The atmosphere around Lucy’s deathbed was absolutely silent. He opened the gate in the fence which bordered the territory. Alex looked behind him. There was no one in sight. He continued to walk until he reached the only tree in the patch of land. It was beside a rundown hut.

He examined the branches of the tree. They all looked normal except for one which had stains of blood and several scratches on it. The young boy gulped. Just then, the body of a girl came tumbling down and hit the floor with a loud crash. Alex jumped back and yelped.

The girl’s body lay on the ground in a crumpled heap. He approached her cautiously, his blade at the ready. He poked her with his hand…and she leapt up and grabbed hold of a nearby trunk. Her hands were horrid. The fingers were long, black and bony. They resembled the paws of a rotten crocodile’s corpse. Her face could be seen clearly. Two luminous white eyes were placed on either side of her crooked, black nose. Her lips were two paper-thin, wobbly lines on the bottom of her face, which were dark red in colour. She wore a ragged yellowing dress and no shoes, exposing her skeletal feet. She had bushy, brown hair and a thick, white noose around her neck.

This is Lucy!’ thought Alex. ‘Wait, but it can’t be. Lucy’s dead. Then this must be her spirit!’ Lucy let go of the branch and landed in front of Alex, who stepped back.

“Listen, I don’t mean any harm. Please leave me alone.” said Alex. But she took no heed. She advanced towards Alex, swiping her claw-like hands in the air and scratching his arm. Alex winced in pain as rose-red blood oozed out of his huge wounds. Suddenly, a bunch of ropes appeared out of nowhere and coiled around his arms and legs. They pulled outwards, as if trying to tear his limbs off. Another rope formed a noose around his neck and tied itself to the bloody branch. Alex struggled to breathe. Then the rope around his neck snapped and he could take in air normally again. The other ropes stopped pulling but kept themselves firmly wrapped around Alex’s limbs.

He flew over to Lucy. There was then a sharp stabbing pain in his back. There was another one in his arm and another in his leg. Soon, the pains were all over his body. The helpless boy jerked and yelped as he was tortured in mid-air. A wide hole started to form in the ground below Alex. It was completely pitch-black. Before he knew it, he was dropped down into it and was travelling at great speed. He screamed for help but no one could hear him. The wind made his eyes water. Finally, he could see a dim light at the end. He came out of the long hole and found himself back in Hangilton. He was hanging from the tree, dead.

🍰 A Piece of Cake: TOP ATHLETE! 🏆

TOP ATHLETE doodle.jpg

A boy was in his sports class, beginning to feel very bored. He was the worst out of everyone. Suddenly, his teacher shouted, “Exercise is important!”

The boy was puzzled as to why his teacher had said this. But, in order to try and impress his teacher, he left the school and ran to the McDonald’s in the next city. After travelling 30 kilometres, he reached a McDonald’s branch and asked, “Could I have 100 buckets of fries 🍟, please?”

He was given the fries for free (as he was their 1000th customer) and ran back to his sports class. When he arrived at his school, he presented the fries to his teacher. “Where have you been? You haven’t exercised!” exclaimed his teacher.

“Exercise? I thought you said extra fries!” said the boy to his teacher, who was watching a crowd of people shout “TOP ATHLETE!”

✍🏻 A Short Story & Doodle by The Pawsome Lion 🦁

🍰 A Piece of Cake: Two Bullets 🔫

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It was mild autumn morning when the case was brought up. My assistant showed me the report of the death of Mr Tom Maguire, the local grocery store owner. He then handed me what seemed to be a suicide note. It read:

‘To my family

Buy the time you have read this letter, I will have ennded my life. You have been great, and I dreat to leeve this world. I’m sory, but I have t to do tis. There is too much deepression, too mush hate and hi want too end it all. Please forgive me. Goodpye.’

“It’s strange,” said my assistant. “Mr Maguire was a stickler for correct grammar. He always hated it when people gave him shopping lists at the store with spelling mistakes all over them.”

“That’s right.” I replied. It was very unusual.

Later on, me and my team went to interview Mr Maguire’s wife, Anna, to see if she knew anything about it. However, all we managed to get out of her was her discovery of two bullet holes in Mr Maguire’s chest (‘It must have been the two-bullet killer’ I thought), a few words of sadness and a series of very loud sobs. We went round to any other members of his family who were living nearby but nobody knew anything.

We came back late in the afternoon. I entered my office and sat behind my desk, where the letter still lay. I read through it over and over again, trying to see if the mistakes were actually clues. Then, it came to me! I quickly looked at the mistakes and wrote down the letters that were supposed to be there. I wrote the letters:

UNDERTHESHOP

I called my team straight away and we set off to the grocery store. My assistant was off ill for the rest of the day. We went down to the cellar of the store. I slowly opened the door – and found my assistant sitting at a table with a huge sea of pictures in front of him. I looked closely at one picture with a red cross on it and saw that it was Tom Maguire. His revolver was in front of him, bloody stains all over it. There were two bullets loaded inside it.

My assistant was given a thirteen year prison sentence and would have a GPS tracker wrapped around his leg. I didn’t get a new assistant, I never knew if they could be a criminal. And as for Anna Maguire, well, she disappeared without a trace.

✍🏻 A Short Story & Doodle by The Pawsome Lion 🦁