SANDS OF THE DESERT

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 3, Issue 213, 16 September 1940, Page 3

SANDS OF THE DESERT

N.Z. SOLDIER DESCRIBES THEM POEM TO MOTHER DEAR The following clever poem received by a local resident from Egypt has been handed in for publication:—■ 0 Mother, this Egypt's a terrible land, 'Tis nothing but flie.s, fleas and acres of sand; The sun is so hot, and the wind when it blows, Piles the dust till it lies inches thick on our clothes. But for all these hardships we've no worries or cares, And the newspapers call us militairc millionaires; So perhaps I should say we're living in styl!e, Where the sands of the desert roll down to the Nile, The East and the West, so the poet once said, Are as different in ways as the quick and the dead; You wouldn't believe, all. the tales I can tell, No, nor can you imagine a, true Eastern smeHv We've all read the tales of Arabian Nights, And since we've been round, and seen most of the sights, We just yearn for the day when we'll sit back and smile, Dreaming dreams of days spent on the sands of the Nile. We've seen Abdin Palace, where lives King Farouk, It's just round the corner from Babel-Luk; 'Tis a beautiful building, with its emblems of green, The one place in Cairo that really looks clean. We've not seen the- King yet, but when he appears, 1 think we will give him three rousing cheers; And he will reply with a wave and a smile, For the boys who are guarding his glorious Nile. But, Mother dear, if the truth must 'be kndwn, We're all very sick, and want to , get home; And when it's all over, and we're there once again, We'll talk" and we'll talk till Ave drive you insane. Perhaps no great stories 1 of great deeds we've done, Perhaps no great stories of great battles won; But we'll tell you with pride, how, with cunning and guil'e, We guarded with safety the sands of the Nile.