March Blues
Posted: Fri Mar 03, 2017 4:38 pm
March is drear and March is cold;
Being tough is getting old.
But let us get into my car,
And we will go to Zanzibar.
There is a little bird that sings
For me alone, of many things
As they once were and how they are:
He lives, I hear, in Zanzibar.
Souks and alleys! Strange song and spices!
Silks and feathers! and the only ices
There are sherbets for a mere dinar:
We'll find it all in Zanzibar,
Where magic looks like butterflies
That sail upon the pearly skies
Like little dhows that come and go -
To where and from, no one can know.
For Zanzibar is all my dreams,
Far from the cold and the chapping-creams
That are our lot here where we are:
I want the swirl of Zanzibar.
So why sit here all dull and grey?
Pack your things. Let's make our way
As strangers in a stranger land
Where gold and gems adorn the sand
And heady incense climbs, fanned
By whispers. I promise it's not far,
So let us get into my car,
And flee from where the cold things are:
O let us go find Zanzibar.
Being tough is getting old.
But let us get into my car,
And we will go to Zanzibar.
There is a little bird that sings
For me alone, of many things
As they once were and how they are:
He lives, I hear, in Zanzibar.
Souks and alleys! Strange song and spices!
Silks and feathers! and the only ices
There are sherbets for a mere dinar:
We'll find it all in Zanzibar,
Where magic looks like butterflies
That sail upon the pearly skies
Like little dhows that come and go -
To where and from, no one can know.
For Zanzibar is all my dreams,
Far from the cold and the chapping-creams
That are our lot here where we are:
I want the swirl of Zanzibar.
So why sit here all dull and grey?
Pack your things. Let's make our way
As strangers in a stranger land
Where gold and gems adorn the sand
And heady incense climbs, fanned
By whispers. I promise it's not far,
So let us get into my car,
And flee from where the cold things are:
O let us go find Zanzibar.
