A silent hide, a swaying valley
Dripping trees pegged up like art
As shaded creatures dilly dally
A cuckoo winds me down to start
“Hush” the wind said, “look no more,
Into your dull eye let me pour
The colour of these desert lands”
And into sleep I drift like sand.
Till a guncock “jackal!” brings me back
Fumbling with the scarpered cries,
I freeze in those disdaining eyes
That fleet a look in brazen haste,
To the jackal the valley wakes!