The Desert

By Carl O. Cooper

Behold..The mighty mid-day sun casts down its rays

And one by one,

The devils plan their doom and rise,

And spew their dust clouds to the skies.

The devil fights the war to win,

And dares a man to venture in.

But many men have tried their hand,

And left their bones bleached in the sand.

With scalding sun, and throats burned dry,

And buzzards circling in the sky,

It seems their fate is just to die.

The devil turned the desert dry.

Empty wagons, broken down,

And wooden crosses in the ground,

Dare men to enter in this land,

Of heat and sun and burning sand.

Mighty man and his machine,

Have yet to turn the desert green.

What’s more, he never, never can.

The devil rules the desert land.