Mirage Of Bishara Poem by Isaac Barton
Mirage Of Bishara
Everchanging sands, cruel and fickle;
She rests in shaded desert trickle
Singing beneath those swaying palms,
Ancient hymns, the antique psalms.
Burning under Arabian skies;
The hopeful, gleaming, chestnut eyes;
Her hands extending dusty water,
I love thee, fiction's desert daughter!
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: desert,fickle,hope,hopeless,mirage,singing,water
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5/5/2024 6:57:42 AM # 1.0.0.1119
