One hundred days, one hundred nights
Of hot Arab desert, and brilliant sunlight
Of laughter, joyful glee, and smiles
It has been a long while
One hundred dawns, and one hundred setting suns
Some long beach walks, and short breathless runs
Some chips Oman and lots of rice
My host mother has a way with spice
One hundred midnights, one hundred noons
And many meals without a spoon
And with my host sister many deep talks
A few tears welled up from culture shock
One hundred afternoons, one hundred morning tides
Several frustrating struggles inside
Several sub par grades beheld
Too many Arabic words misspelled
One hundred evenings, one hundred wee hours
Numerous friendships like blossoming flowers
Numerous sights of beautiful things
Such of Nahal's hot water springs
One hundred days, one hundred nights
Since the day my heart took flight
Since I became limitlessly blessed
And my world view vastly progressed
