l i g h t room

Word(s) . Light . Life

Old Timbuktu

5 Comments


Here, vast empty sand seas surround
And ages ago salt, gold and ivory drew
Chakrii’s great grandfather to cross waters
Beyond the Sankalakhiri, on Saharan ways
Many thought each time he went
That Channarong might not return
Yet always he returned, bursting with tales
Of things glorious, kings and spires
Skies painted chalcedony and ruby
And still, his tales transform faces
By hilltribe campfires at night
In those calm and golden places
Where old men sit and dream

© 2015 S. Michaels
Silk Roads

image: tattoopictures.co and brentstirton.com

Advertisements

Author: LightWriters

Faith child. Poet. Photo-buff.

5 thoughts on “Old Timbuktu

  1. Lovely! Right around the corner from our house, pitched on the sand among some scrubby trees, is a big traditional Bedouin tent where men – young and old – meet every night to drink coffee and share news and tales. Your beautiful poem captures both the excitement and the peace of their experience. Thank you!

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s