I’ve bought this software that writes quasi poetry
The breezes whisper to me of far Samarkand
I write a line. The next line it suggests to me
And foster fervent longing for that magic land
My words kindle connection in the software mind,
Palm trees are silhouette against vermilion sky
Sup-pos-ed-ly, though no connection can I find.
The night air wafting myrhh and frankincense and musk
Stupid software! Samarkand’s a modern city.
Hobbled camels belch and moan a common misery
Food processing, cotton, tourists (more’s the pity).
Clear desert air adds lustre to night’s jewellery
As old as Athens, Babylon, and Rome.
A meagre dung fire. Weariness! A day’s reach crossed
Alexander knew it. For Tameline ’twas home.
Software to Strabo….Bugger facts…..CREATE!!