Missing in (Ma)action

And this lady is my Mother (one of many). She's run away to Leeds as well. I couldn't call her en route to the airport so this is my weepy goodbye message. There's a fair chance I'll have forgotten about it when she returns in a year's time. Have fun in Blighty Krithika.

In a little Mumbai village

Where it's acceptable to pillage

There used to live a girl

Whose hair didn't ever curl

With a name like Krithika Iyer

And a voice like the town crier

She's miss goody two shoes

Part butterfly, part recluse

Something about her almond eyes

Assure you they they hide no lies

She's not my first momma

Nor a number separated by a comma

I can't be her exclusive son

That would mean injustice done

But I won't add any to that list

While she enjoys the English mist.

The brightest and wisest of us all

Yet defending us like a wall

She's gone to Leeds to be brilliant

And she'll return jubilant

And so we can wait a year

To once again see our precious momma bear.