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.

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Mohamed Sarfan's picture

Dear Poeter, Within this poem lies the thin language of literary taste and emotion. The life of a lonely man on a desert earth is like a piece of white paper. But, even that makes a particular goal meaningful. There is nothing in this world as cruel as the search for the fragrance of beautiful flowers on fire. But, within the words of sacrifice and effort the wounds are all surrendered. All The Best My Dear Friend; Write More Congratulations

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