The Orange Tree

The concrete jungle shines and gleams All around shiny glass beams And amid this dusty shimmering sea Stands a lone orange tree The fragrant flowers silently blooms Seeking the warmth from the sun that looms The birds have left and stopped their calls It is quiet, not a sound falls The weary traveller sits beneath Seeking the cool underneath Touching the smooth, fragile bark Dreaming of some sparrow or maybe a lark Perhaps he dreams of a wasted love Escaped like a frightened dove Or some happy memory That from him has become free This gentle haven amid the fire A place to commune and retire And all around lovers came this vision to see And feel the enchantment under the orange tree 25/11/2011