Desert Poem by Kwai Chee Low

Hot sand, heated air curling upwards,
and a merciless, glaring orb above.
The camels tottered in their slow gait,
the bells around their necks
ringing a senseless tune.

Though the sandstorm had abated,
we still trembled in the aftermath.
Blinded, battered and overwhelmed,
wildly gasping amid the swirling sand.
Many knelt, giving thanks for our salvation.

Nightfall, cold with purplish skies,
shimmering stars splattered
around a crescent moon.
Spellbound, our ordeal forgotten,
we lazed, engulfed in the panoramic beauty.