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[Page 60]
Desert Life
I spilled some water on desert sand.
(It's far too precious to waste.)
The effect was like a grasping hand,
Imbibing in frenzied haste.
Swiftly it soaked in the desert's thirst,
Like raindrops on furnace fires
Raced with the hot wind to drink it first
Quenching the angry desires.
The desert, our neutral enemy
He's partial to neither side –
Mocking at mortal's impunity
And the powers that divide.
The sentry rides on the dim skyline
of a barren wilderness,
A woeful camel train, the only sign
of life, in his loneliness.
Picture the Bedouin desert born!
And his wall of imagination,
Picture the Trooper Austral born,
And the hot sands inspiration.
Our lives seem likened to waterdrops
As we ride through pulseless heat
For man's own soul the desert sops,
Achieving his great defeat.
Alf P.K. Morris
MED Sergt.
12th A.L.H.
Hagley Park Outpost
Sinai Desert
21/8/16