Orange Blossoms

On a tree Overcome by the scent of citrus Sitting on a branch plucking fruit With the rhythmic sound of grass below me The wind blowing the grass like waves Filling the air with musicality The blossoms Yellow and white With the possibility to be greater then buds Tightly closed but ready to open Offshoots of the bigger, stronger branch I have this quiet moment to myself To admire nature at its finest Chewing on honeysuckle The blossoms are shaped like stars Soft and round petals But pointy, Permeating through the casing they are trapped in A star, that when pollinated, grows Growing into the tangy fruit that we know and love