Bill and I
visited
this old mosque
in Tangiers
Miriam
couldn't come
she was out
shopping with
other dames
what's she like?
Bill asked me
what's who like?
Miriam
she's ok
quite a laugh
I told him
what's she like
in the sack?
he asked me
she's like wine
gets better
each time we
have a go
so I thought
he replied
jealously
we left the
old mosque to
have mint tea
in some small
cafe place
he told me
he tried his
luck on the
plump French girl
but couldn't
understand
her English
well enough
to go far
Miriam
found us there
and showed us
what she'd bought
(haggled for)
and sat down
next to me
Bill went off
in search of
the French girl
just after Miriam
had said she
had seen her
not far off
I watched her
(Miriam)
as she spoke
taking in
the outline
of her bra
through her top
and her eyes
lit up with
excitement
and I wished
we were back
in the tent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem