In a land far away my mother spoke to me,
A vast golden land, oasis by the sea.
My first day of a month with a western buffet,
Proudly sat a clay po, Foule Medamas on a tray.
My eyes lit up as I raised the tall lid,
The aroma of cummin, the olive pil hid.
The bread over yonder, fresh and sweet,
I sat with a view to taste my first treat.
The breakfast of kings my first delight,
Crisp tomatos and cucumber on the right.
My mind took me back to my mothers side,
I ate her favourite dish with a senae of pride.
My eyes glazed over with a sense of regret,
I wished she was here now to relive not forget.
A cultural warmth with each mouthful to eat,
I bow to Dubai for my first taste and greet.
A line of western food over shadowed by one,
The foulle delicious and second to none.
No need to eye or covet anything more,
Dubai opened its arms for something I adore.
Peaceful rest has my mother and now I can see,
Your memories live on in during breakfat with me.
No hurry in me now, I hear her saying yullah,
Bless the golden culture of this kingdom, Insh’a allah.