Hibiscus flowers, the rosy sky The sea reflects - I wander by On busy streets of golden leaves Within my city of orange trees. Zesty scents attract my nose As distant from the English Rose As allspice - the evening light Has nearly darkened into night. This city is mine, and on my own I walk - there's none to share my throne. Yet, in the placid font I see Reflections of what could not be. No love had he for me, t'would seem For from his voiced thoughts I glean He loved another of fiery hair, Of fortune great and visage fair. I loved him, and though I knew He loved me not I didst pursue Him. My wilted soul now Quivers at his loss. Dear reader - I know you feel The breakdown of my rhyme, and reel. But listen close, and I shall tell To you what does become of love. In morn of spring no want had I For love of man. In crisp new sky (though clouds did come and go) I thought I needed not what love had brought. In summer sweet the lovers come To gather at your feet. And some, Not all by any stretch of course, Will win your heart. Though technically in summer still My shattered soul and broken will Lie cold in autumn - withered leaves Drift slowly from my orange trees. Seven white lillies, the stormy sky, The sea reflects. I wander by On empty streets of dying leaves Within this city of orange trees.
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