The desert wind fares wild and true
O'er a petaled face
Then scurries round with much ado
And roils from place to place.
Here where sunshine bakes the sand
And dries the dusty air
Here where legends roam the land ,
Where mortals would not dare.

A flower rises from the ground
And peers out from her bed.
Bashful, silent, not a sound,
She lifts her new born head.
So, gazing round the dips and dunes
She savours, for a while,
The breeze's repertoire of tunes
That call to cause her smile.

Then with the joy of midday bloom
She, open armed, looks up.
High into the clouded plume
She opens like a cup.
Her colours dazzle desert eyes,
Her perfume scents the day.
Yet closes when the sunlight dies
To sleep the night away.