The Blue Mosque
Clad in creamy marble,
With a hint of steely blue,
Inside, plenty of reddish ochre,
And glints of gilding too.
There are some cobalt tiles,
But these are swamped by the full display,
And the low-slung chandeliers and their wires
Just get in the gen’ral way.
Big and grand, and in no-way monochrome,
And it’s not her fault what others call her dome.
Crowded, of course, but this is expected,
Scrumming to doff our shoes –
You’d think a series of ante-rooms for this
Would help the queues.
Within, some turquoise headscarves
Give a nod to her azure fame –
But in the end, she makes no bid
To accept her heavenly name.
It goes to show that marketing ain’t new…
So all-in-all: not small, not bad, not blue.
Rhyming Couplets 