CITRUS GROVES

CITRUS GROVES In citrus groves of sunlit hue, Fictitious fact farce sounds so true, Where oranges, plump and captured by zest, In love affection with the farmer, feeling its best, But witnessed a twist beyond the rolling crest. With its vibrant peel and a radiant hue, Held the essence of the one it grew. From gentle curve, clean looks to robust chin, An orange's visage, looking fresh and clean. Its eyes, twin orbs of sunlight's rays, Gleaming and bright like summer's blaze, In vibrant array, encompassed in its gaze, Squeezed with each squeeze by the squeezer, Ready to be delivered in the captivity of freezer. Compromised trust alternate its burst of zest, Liquidization is the transformation it witness at best. As the squeezer unleashed the scent tang. Oranje enjoyed its last caress before hitting a snag It wasn't a sweet symphony but a fragrant delight, Juicing out the juice into this citrus sprite. From that moment on, the farmer knew, This orange, immense, had a purpose true, To bring a smile and refreshing to every face, A reminder of nature's infinite grace.²4 VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP} FORM: Rhymes Copyright ©? December 9th, 2023.