The Six Day War
THE SIX DAYS WAR
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The sweet smell of orange blossom
wafted along the sandy paths
hovered over the concrete sidewalks
and entered the open windows
shaded with green blinds
Pure sunlight seemed to engulf us
students of biblical studies.
the heat haze played gently from the sea
and a sense of history
settled on our shoulders.
City gents passed by
at a fast, inflationary pace.
We did not mind them
as we made our way to the Arab bazaar
down the side streets.
How we remembered the bazaar,
there were rubbishy carvings and metalwork,
and orange blossom was lost in the spices
and the black coffee.
how they wooed us.
Such charm these people of the bazaar
but above all I remember the colour,
there were hangings for the house
silks for the dresses
scarves against the dust.
Then, as we walked along the timeless streets,
bathed in the sunshine and the orange blossom
came the boom of gunfire.
Canons raided the tranquillity
with rocketing noise.
Here was the land of the Prince of Peace
shaken in the April light
shaken at the Passover,
not escaping from Egypt
but conquering the West Bank.
On April the 7th
friction between neighbours
became terrible war 40 years long
and the colourful bazaars
collapsed in hostility and dust.
Copyright © Terry Vannecksurplice | Year Posted 2014
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