Petra
Deep in the desert of Jordan we roamed,
In a rose tinted city named Petra, borne from stone.
Three hundred years before Christ it was built,
The Nabataeans mastered carving, the heat did nought but wilt.
Spice and silk passed through Petra to the East,
Trade was commanded by the Nabataeans, long deceased.
Earthquakes shook the city, and people fled
But stone refused surrender, and the city remained unbent. Continue reading Petra>>
The pavements are made from fist sized stones of either black or a dirty white. Ebony patterns, different on almost every street, are carefully traced along the ivory base. They are impractical – slippery and expensive to maintain – but also unusually beautiful, partly because your feet fall on what is so obviously frivolous.


