Colin Carey's Mihimihi

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Taku mihimihi whakawhanaungatanga

Tena Koutou,

Anei Taku pepeha

ko Anaru/Colin taku ingoa
ko Taranaki toku maunga
ko Tokomaru toku waka
ko Tasman toku moana
ko Waitara toku awa
ko Owae-whaitara toku marae
ko Ati-awa toku iwi
ko Ngati Rahiri toku hapu
no Opunake, Taranaki Ahau, Turangawaewae
engari, kei te noho ahau ki Tahawai Katikati inaianei

Whakapapa

ki te taha o toku Bob Field toku korua, ko Ethel Briscoe toku kuia
ki te taha o toku mama ko Dick Parker toku korua, ko Bonnie Jean Ross toku kuia

ko Ropata Patiki toku papa, ko Glennys nee Parker toku mama

he rangatira kaupapa o nga tamariki ahau
kei te mahi ahau kei roto i te whakaako tipuranga tamariki

Toku rima aku tamariki
ko Vivienne taku hoa rangatira tuatahi engari i mate ia ki ahau!
ko Paul ta maua tamaiti whangai

ko Sara taku hoa rangatira tuarua
ko Michelle raua ko Samantha a maua tamahine
ko Scott ta maua tamaiti whangai

Ko Katrina taku hoa rangatira whakamutunga
ko Travis ratou, ko Axel, ko Campbell a maua tamariki
kore te hoa rangatira maku

ko Colin Anaru Carey taku ingoa

nga mihi

Tena koutou tena koutou tena kotou katoa

ake ake amene

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Monday, 10 September 2012  ​

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Uncle Jim in Dumfries, Scotland has sent me a couple of poems (about Scotland, obviously, knowing his passion for his homeland), and as they are a wee bit long, I'm going to type one in here today, and I'll do the second one tomorrow.

By the way, Erica (she from the previous entry above) has had a look at my blog and asked whether there was much interest in the blog. I know of some interest, but in order for a decent measure of how many of you actually follow my blog, it would be great if you'd send me an email re this - see Contact page.

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Well, here goes with a morning's typing, Uncle Jim, God love ya -

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Scots wa hae by the English bled, Scots whom drink has aft misled,

Welcome to your North Sea bed or to penury.

Now's the day and now's the hour, ignore the Yankees' greedy lower,

Realise at last your power denied in English history.

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For if Adam first started us all on the road, it was John McAdam

that made it,

He ran it from Ayr to John O'Groats and then to London laid it.

For every Scot in 1603 has cast a baleful glare,

Since Jimmy the Sax, that wise old fool went scregling away doon

there.

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