The Mirage
Cliff on cliff each rose
To one another warming
And for the summit vying
They stood guard for date palms
Green palms in shy stance
Stood below like brides
The tall grooms of brown walls
Quiet palms and bare summits
Scripted the desert betrothal
Your ears and eyes strain
To a single drum’s rumble
And flash of hues amidst green
Desert dresses up to deceive
All that you see is a mirage
Of colourful Arab collage
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