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
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