Golden Kingdom
Island School, Justin Mak, Poetry: Group 3
I once met an old man in Ulaanbaatar,
He told me a story of a place not that far.
A golden kingdom in isolation,
But with a worldwide reputation.
This realm, he said, was a place woven into history,
Yet much about it was still a mystery.
He knew that it was part of the Mongol Empire,
But there, now nomads are the only masters of fire.
Fantastic treasures made the headline news,
Dino egg fossils, unearthed by an intrepid crew.
Jobs there were open, for the seven dwarfs,
As that place was also a gold and copper source.
This domain is also homeland,
To many creatures who both great and grand.
There goes the ibex, climbing skilfully,
Flashes of brown, golden eagles swooping down surely.
And to this day, explorers still travel,
To this remote dominion of sand, dirt and gravel.
Trekking through this land of wonder,
Untouched beauty, and splendour.
That was the end of his tale,
So I gave him some coins – “Here, it’s for some more ale,”
I got up from my chair, and just noticed,
That he didn’t tell me that place’s name.
But I already knew, since there’s
No other golden kingdom so isolated,
No other historical realm so mysterious,
No other sandy dominion so remote,
Except the
Gobi Desert.
