Context: Flying from Cairo to Milan for a family wedding after cycling from Huddersfield to southern Egypt. Incomplete.

14th March 1987

In one foul swop we sail away
Onboard our hearts and minds they play.
In the bosom of man’s playbird we drink
Of our times past, we sit and we think.

A land of beauty and ancient craft
With columns of gold reflecting the facts.
Our tales with Pharaohs are bound to lie
For they are the voice from out of a land so dry.

21/4/87
And when we stop to say a prayer or two,
To thank our Gods for their blessings on view
Forever to Egypt our hearts will return
Hers is the torch of beauty we burn.

Her people are Arabs, not always a fault
But without mercy, I’m sure their wounds we will salt.
Their lies and their pleasures, to us no game
Many would go hungry and yet we would feel no shame.

One day we might venture to return a while ….. (incomplete)