Soft Orange Blossoms

These soft orange blossoms are more colorful and fragrant than the velvety, wild roses... hastily clinging to sturdy sunflowers' stems, fretting a danger too real and so imminent. His manly hands attacked her in an orchard of beautiful roses, and she left blood stains on those delicate, scattered petals... who did hear the young virgin's painful cry, subdued by the quails' loud twitter in the shady elms' branches? Some did, but continued to walk and let her die! Her mother wailed under the weeping, embracing elms... they saw her child struggle and despair, but they couldn't help; why did that brutal man raped her and beat her to death? And what kind of punishment he deserves for that cruel act? Wouldn't a just judge be furious and imprison him for life? A light wind detached the soft orange blossoms from the branches, and let them gently fall on her violated body to cover with dignity the purest and youngest blood spilled in the meadow of clovers; God Himself cried from His throne, and sent His angel of mercy to the sorrowful and lamenting earth, which had seen the eyes of innocence. Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci