Returning To Syria Poem by Paddy J. P. Harris

We must depart ere break of day
To seek the East.
Though I have long forgot the way,
Once there I shall tell you of the least
Ruined temple or Bedouin’s hut
Where to us the door is never shut.

Those lands that are twisted and scorched to dust
By its flaming heart.
And there is never a sword with rust,
For quickly another conflict starts.
Though what they fight for seems so blest,
Where passions overflow there is no rest.

Yet we must depart across the seas
And leave our isle,
Where we have sat and thought in ease.
We go to the land of the golden smile,
That lights the darkest desert cave,
And dreams of the cool oasis’ wave.