On
By WALTER EUGENE VINSON
La Mesa, California
Cat Canyon near California's Palm Desert.
PAL
By GLADYS
L.
SAVAGE
Denver, ColoradoPatient little donkey,Plodding through the sand,Looking
for
tomorrowAnd the promised land.Land
of
golden nuggetsOr twisted wire gold,Or maybe square cut emeralds,In
a
mountain's fold.Keeper
of
the meal sack,The coffee pot and pan,The pick ax and the shovelAnd the dreams
of
man.
DESERT CANDLES
By EMMA MESSICK
Los Angeles, CaliforniaJune
is
walking softly through
the
YuccahillsLighting
the
desert candles after winter'sdark.Tipping
her
torch
of
sunbeams over themshe spillsDown
the
straight stalk
her
light-ignitingsparkUntil every little bell bursts creamy white,And
all the
desert hills
are
sprinkled withtheir light.
DESERT WINDS
By
E. A.
BRININSTOOL
Los Angeles, CaliforniaOh, desert winds, you sing
to
me
in
accentsmild
and
low!Of stretches green, where breezes soft
go
wandering
to and fro!
You sing
of
Springtime's balmy hours;
of
mesas blooming fair,Until
I
feel
the
desert lure that turns
my
footsteps there!Oh, desert winds,
I
seem
to
hear you sing-ing
as
you
go!
While perfumes from
the
Southland fair
in
vagrant breezes blow!I catch the scent
of
greasewood
on
he cool-ing evening
air,
And
1
can tell the song you sing which bidsme come back there!Oh, desert winds, my heart goes out
to
yourenticing plea!1 hear your murmured accents drift acrossthe sagebrush sea!Your beauties rise before
me
from acrossthe shifting sand,And bind the
tie
that draws me back
to
myown Desert Land!I enter now
the red
hawk's ancient realm.Forgive this new intrusion, regal one,From whose wide wings beneath
the
verysunSuspends afar the Universe's helm;Whose fierce frontiers admit
no
soft-leavedelmOr dallying aspen, but
to
warp and stunWeave hot horizons where the lizards runAnd majestic palms lift toward the sun.Your boundless battlements
of
raging rockOnce knew the Indian warrior's wary tread,Beneath your
eye the
arrow
and
flintlockWere bloody rivals,
but
their masters dead,You soar once more
and
looking down-ward mockMy usurpation where Time reigns instead.•
• •
DESERT CITY
By GRACE BARKER WILSON
Kirtland, New MexicoA phantom city's lying on the desert's magicface,A city with
its
walls
all
gleaming bright;And from afar
I
watch
as
rosy sunset gildsthe place,And long blue shadows creep through thereat night.I view
it
from
my
hill top,
but in
fancy
I
am thereAmong
the
shades that wander
up and
down;No matter how
I
strive
the
secrets
of
theirlives
to
share,I cannot break the silence
of
that town.For when
I
come
too
near
it all the
visionmelts away,The walls and towers vanish from my sight.There's nothing left
of
magic, just
the
bar-ren hills
all
gray,That melt together
in the
dusky light.
DESERT LANDSCAPE
By
E. E.
MITCHELL
Winslow, ArizonaBlue and purple shadows playAcross the desert land,While distance lends enchantmentTo
a
stretching sea
of
sand.Rainbow colors glow and changeAs
if a
Mighty HandHad scattered precious jewels thereTo mingle with the sand.Beyond the gleaming desert rimThe purple mountains rise—Majestic
in
their grandeur stillAgainst the evening skies.The desert dusk falls quickly onThe sunset's golden flare,While tall Saguaro cactiLift their arms
in
silent prayer.
By TANYA SOUTH
To face the open Door
at
last,And look unfrightened
at
the vastFar panorama,
is to be
Wholly and truly free.•^Fear holds
us
back.
It
shuts the door.It wraps
the
conquests life
can
storeIn such black mantles
of
despair,The thoughts become
a
perfect snareFor failure
of
each separate planMade
by a
man.
DESERT MAGAZINE
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