Wednesday, 23 May 2012


This crisply muted
Calm Sahara night,
Belies the advent 
Of the furnace sun.
Amid our bivouac 
Of coloured beits
We stir from dreams 
To sweet oasis dates.

Our caravan decamps
To race the dawn,
On ancient trading routes 
Towards the sea.
By Adrar, Timimoun 
Proud In Salah,
Hence we shall follow
Our nomadic star.

You wear an abaya
Of damask black,
Your mouth is veiled
In lattice woven silk.
Your beauty glows
Lit by the purple sky,
Now overwhelmed:
I turn from you and cry.

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2012.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Welcome to my poetry blog.

I hope you enjoy the posts here, please feel free to leave a comment.