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by JoScollen 

Posted: 30 December 2003
Word Count: 334

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Inside that crumbling medina wall,
The heat was searing, the morning begot
In a modern world, an ancient mall.

Beset by colour, richness enthralls
Visitors, whilst sellers’ besiege and plot
Inside those dusty medina walls.
Wonders of ages and chronicles,
Dark gritty natives that Kingdoms’ boycott,
In a modern world, the past recalls.
Magic carpets on well-laden stalls,
Spices, rare flora fauna, cloths and grot,
Inside those dirty medina walls.

Foreign to chaos and heaving thralls
The tourist finds herself propelled and swat
Against filthy, dirty medina walls.
Fraught to stand up whilst sellers’ catcall
Anarchy obscures the sightseers’ plot
‘Another one’, the hawker does recall.
Panic afflicted, dazed and mauled,
In dim lanes, alike labyrinths’ knot.
Inside a bazaar wholly walled.

The tourist struggles to stand at all.
But help from the hawker, the upshot -
Kind hands help her up those medina walls.
Upright and calm, leaning on a stall,
The visitor smiles at those who did spot
Her smash against facade and recall.
‘Madam’ says the hawker, ‘What a fall!’
‘Your tumble my dear, must hurt you a lot’
Ah! Salvage found in medina walls.

As she sat beside his charming stall
‘You are kind’ she whispered ‘I feel such a clot,
But the dark and the sights, in these walls,
Confused and frightened me. What a fool
I’ve been. And now, where I am, I know not.
To escape, kind sir, can you recall?’
Hand clasped tight, he led her through the mall
Over old cobbled streets and rubbish they trot.
There! A break in the medina wall!

With utter joy, she thanked with a call,
And ran into the sun. The air was hot;
Life was sweet, outside the medina wall.
When she turned to wave to her new pal
He had sadly vanished out of eyeshot
Into those dusty medina walls.
So, she turned on her heel, shamed and small,
At her snobbery and prejudiced snot
For an ancient race, inside medina walls,
That time just simply forgot.

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Comments by other Members

Dee at 16:55 on 30 December 2003  Report this post
A word of advice, Jo... get someone else to do the washing so you can produce more of this.

Seriously - I'm no poet either so I can't comment on how it stands up, technically, as a poem but it's a damned good story. The imagery is wonderful. The colours, the smells, the flies, the dirt! I was there. I was that tourist. I need a shower!

Excellent start.

Fearless at 16:56 on 30 December 2003  Report this post

I like this a lot; a subtly strong combination of rhythm and imagery. I particularly like the last stanza.
Write on sister.


Fearless at 16:57 on 30 December 2003  Report this post
Jo -
Ignore Dee
For she too
Can write poetry

JoScollen at 17:56 on 30 December 2003  Report this post
Thank you both.

Not sure what else to say...... but shall certainly tell my husband that he MUST do the washing from now on!


Sue H at 07:54 on 03 January 2004  Report this post
Well done Jo. Very evocative. Keep away from the washing and write some more!

word`s worth at 21:05 on 24 January 2004  Report this post

Poetry isn't your bag? You coulda fooled me! Really evocative writing...it made me kinda homesick! ;o)


JoScollen at 16:51 on 25 January 2004  Report this post
Thanks Nahed!

Where are you from?


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