by
Alun Buffry
Lesley and I went down to Rajasthan
Desert, with Salima, a camel riding man.
Through a morning trotting on,
Just the sound of Salima's songs.
Peahens, crows and tinkle bells,
Crowds of men at water wells,
Telling tales of who-knows-what
While we're wishing it not so hot.
Stop for lunch, a shady tree,
Eat some vegetable chapatti,
Drinking some chai, hot and sweet
Try to avoid the deadly heat.
All around us golden sand,
Shrubs and cacti about this land.
"Be careful please, where you sit,
"Cos desert's full of camel shit."
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