The Gobi Desert
Island School, Jordan Chan, Poetry: Group 3
Cold and arid with no movement lies a barren wasteland,
Where your vision could view nothing but a thousand miles of sand and stone.
Cunning critters would battle through, stuffed in the winter nights of their own motherland,
The other anemic passive ones will get their share of bones.
At night, the soothing breeze whispers through the desert,
The sky is cloudy with a chance of a random star.
The children drift off to sleep in the delicate atmosphere,
While the father sings a song to show his care.
The nomadic life is pastoral,
Moving in search of best pastures and campsites.
Making sure that food is ample,
Strolling along with the hospitality of the comforting sun.
The desert originally a naturally deserted piece of rocky land,
Which developed into a fascinating superb life battleground.
