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Tom Barker
Joondalup, Australia

We couldn’t cook in a sand storm,
and we couldn’t light fires at night.
We couldn’t get a half decent sleep,
but were always ready to fight.

Living like animal sand gropers,
we dug a hole in the sand.
Wishing we were anywhere else,
except in this hot desert land.

Food cooked on metal mud guard,
heated by rays of the sun.
would heat up tinned bacon a treat,
but it couldn’t bake a hot currant bun.

When sun went down in the evening,
a hot cup of char before bed.
Could be managed quite easily,
by using an empty bacon tin instead.

Days in the desert were roasting,
but nights in the desert were crass.
In fact they could get so ruddy cold,
and could freeze good nuts into brass.

We half fill a tin with clean sand,
then add three tablespoons of petrol to boot.
Light it and we had a small blue flame,
Voila! heat wi’ no light and no soot.

The desert will be there when I’m gone,
to a place where no willie willies blow.
The only trouble wi’ my luck,
the whole chuffin’ lot will be covered wi’ snow.

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