Rooster In An Orange Tree
Round clutches of merriment,
And contemplative fumes,
Rattle the chiffonier of things past.
Off-white memories are shaken out,
Studied and delicately refolded for safe keeping.
In the distance, the hues of evening,
Drape gently across the castle walls,
And warm the clouds over the sea.
The breeze so close to show His face,
Something neither word nor man can capture.
To my starboard side, my golden glance,
My rose petals in a Grecian Urn,
My heart for her, given on the altar.
Ever closer our touch, ever stronger,
Our bond in this life, cast in off-white plaster.
Forgiven the herald of the Rock’s betrayal,
A rooster crows for awakening,
In the early evening, perched in an orange tree.
“Be awake in this life, and be grateful,
Or you may pass by those sweet fruits that grace golden toil.”
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