Port Moresby

Port Moresby stretched out before me;

Resplendent, glorious, magical

And gleaming in the tropical sun.

But my heart weeps for this jungle

Of glass and steel skeletons;

A city of cock-tail parties,

Home-brew for all the street boys

And spak-brus for the drug-bodies.

When the sun comes sailing down

I see the blue van patrolling around

And out in the city’s streets

A silhouetted figure is asking

For one kina

Recommend Write a ReviewReport