"Desert Rain"

Expected doubt when country far
From north and south, the land Qatar
By which the birth of March beginned
With teardrops from the heavens' grin

Mere peasant of the inland sea
In gold sky blessed by gods from the
Olympian throne thrown bolts, as rain
Washed away the dune high, desert vain

A sparkling hope's unlit in fire
The scarred, the mark and fiddling lire
All seeping in the drought felt soil
'Til tears reached us, the pulsing oil

Oh teardrops of the gods I thank
As even in this bit I frank-
-ly 'member thee as the drenched sky fade
And left the sun's light from the shade