Desert Cry

As I lay swathed in true love’s warmth
I heard the night wind creep around
The charcoal sky so diamond bright
That haunting wind o’er Egypt’s ground

And as the eerie moan gave height
To stir the sand, to heap and pile
O’er the tombs of long laid kings
In limestone vaults beside the Nile

It wailed and mourned for long dead souls
Laid low in cities of concealed tombs
In agitated sighs it mooned
Above the chambers where silence looms

And as I listened, I thought of they
Who once with love and passion slept
Steeped in knowledge, now forgotten
And with the sorrowful wind I wept.

Pauline Miller
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 07/30/2021

Poet's note: Just random thoughts put together when thinking of Egypt.
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