Rejected

A cloud was looking for where he’d do the most good.
He stopped and he looked and beneath where he stood,
To the right lay a valley, running rivers of gold;
To the left lay a desert where the sandy hills rolled.

He smiled at the valley, all luscious and green.
He knew that his raindrops, there, would be seen.
He’d water the flowers and top up the stream.
The desert just sighed: while the valley, she gleamed.

The desert remembered how she once looked arrayed
In the flora and fauna, that had since passed away.
For years she had waited for the moisture to fall
But clouds kept on passing; never heeding her call.

So she struggled alone, ‘til life finally died.
Leaving her empty: ages went by.
Now above is the water, but she is barren and old
And the cloud gave his moisture to the valley of gold.