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.