For
Yanks to reach Myanmar
The
road is so long and so far.
You get off the plane
With stiff lumbar pain
And
search for relief in a bar.
But
help is not far away
Because
Nina is waving, “This Way!”
Mingalabar
The hotel isn’t far
And
tomorrow will be a new day.
At
dawn we’re launched in Yangon
At the golden pagoda
We behold our first Buddha
Then
desperately search for a john.
To
Bagan we fly from the coast.
4,000
temples they boast.
We see markets and nuncs
Have lunch with the monks
And
balloon before most have their toast.
Aye
Yarwaddy we attempted to float
Berthed
and dined on a sumptuous boat.
But they fed us so much
That the bottom we touched
And
we’re bussed to Mandalay’s moat.
Then
out of the heat and the din
To
see where the Brits sipped their gin.
In the cool of the park
In the gathering dark
They
talked about cricket and kin.
Via
Heho some went to a site
To
feed elephants dates by the bite
And then see them roll
In a deep water hole
And
splash in their watery delight.
This
brings us right up to today
When
we boated the waters Inle.
Now the red sun has set
And we think with regret
That
we’ve come to the end of our stay.
So
let’s toast to Nina, our guide
Who
organized bed, food and ride
And handled our trials
With charm and with smiles
What
a great guide to have at our side.
And
to Bob and Diana
Thanks
for being the planner
Of our trip so exotic
In the land of the tropic
That
culminates on this veranda.
Thank
you!
