A Broad Abroad
The desert wind scours the land
Home to all of civilized man
Ankhs hang from leather straps
No turkey gobbles nor Auntie naps.
Kids in mosques and chapels abound
Singing chants of eastern sound.
Genies squirm in lamps too tight
Images rise of Arabian nights.
Visitor you’ll find me over seas
In search an antiquarian gies.
No pumpkin pie or candied yams
Gathered around a table of clan.
Destiny has brought me here
Ancient pyramids now come clear
Yesterdays dreams, I do revere.
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