Classic Poem

I am aweary of the constant bloom,
The well-groomed orange-groves, the wealth and boast
Of lush fertility, that crowd for room
Shut in between the mountains and the coast.

Give me the desert vastness and its skies—
The azure and the lilac and the gold
Of far, enchanted mesas that arise
On huge horizons, where the Earth is bold.

In naked glory. I am tired of fields
Fawning about the feet, fed from the hand;
Give me the wild-hued plain that never yields—
The untamed magic of the desert land!