Foreign Words

My eyes are derelict.
Infant and fresh.

Absorbing foreign words, foreign faces.

My mother tongue,
tangled,
twisted,
amongst vowels
of confusion.

Their faces shine with
welcoming eyes.
A barrier present,
cold and strange.

Muttering, handshakes,
kisses – swapped and selected.
Twist of culture, language and value.
Holland.

60 minutes by plane.
60 differences from home.

Far away
from little
home comforts.

Of familiarity, warmth and English idioms.

My mind is washed
with the dizziness
of change.

Landing home, a relief.

(First Draft Of Foreign Words For My Poetry Portfolio)