Chela creative area
The Road to Fujairah
Plastic bags line the road to Fujairah,
mostly blue, some yellow or white.
Embellishing the tiny stunted trees
like bizarre Christmas decorations,
blown there by desert winds.
Dotted here and there on bare rock
cling clumps of spiny grass
like Crown of Thorns starfish on coral.
The empty landscape - sand and scrub
and brown rock – shimmers in the heat.
Even in the air conditioned car
I sweat in my long sleeved shirt –
worn to respect local sensibilities.
Outside the town the road is lined with stalls,
selling fruit, or rugs from Pakistan.
There are no women –
men are everywhere,
robed in white, their heads covered.
The one street is deserted –
everything pauses for prayer.
We eat in a beachside cafe,
food adapted to Western tastes.
The inevitable pop music
blaring from loudspeakers,
drowning the sounds of the sea.
Valerie Darville
Poetry by Anthony Fisher
From My Restaurant Window High in Dubai
The Terrace
A Septic Tank Addresses ACUF
At the Pictures
Brimsdown
Musings at a Urinal in Dubai
Silas Jones
The New Inn
Dusk Maes Mawr Farm
Poetry by Valerie Darville
You longed for the Sea
Do Cats Have Ethics?
Dubai Beach
Sonnet: Fashion Victims
The Silver Fish
Jacob
Strawberries for Fish
The Road to Fujairah
The Bay Hotel, Lyme Regis, Halloween 2000
Kentucky Fried Chicken in Georgia USA
Quill
Lavoir de Semier



