Orange Trees
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.
