In memory of June Johnson, our mother and grandmother, who loved her large garden full of plants and vegetables, of birds flocking to the feeders, and where there were always frogs, toads, and various biting insects around the pond. And in memory of William Johnson, our father and grandfather,who, with his wife, loved his sailing.

Below is a poem written by June:-

Next time, I'll learn to fly, come roaring down the sky, laughing

Next time, I'll explore the ocean floor in a chain of bubbles

Investigate volcanoes

Climb mountains, pluck stars for my tiara

Buy an Estate, plant trees, watch them grow tall

Sail single-handed round the seven seas to meet a black browed albatross

Run my fingers through the sands of the Sahara

Capture those purple shadows and hang them on my wall

Ride the Pacific surf, walk a tightrope round the Equator

Next Time