Best Citrus Poems
I kissed July's hot tangerine lips
swam in cool aquamarine eyes
basked in blond and honey rays
dreamed in mango pomegranate sunsets
of lime hillsides and marmalade roses
Years of sweet citrus passed in golden hours
One day I woke
to find translucent eyes
in burnt sienna
as trees wept leaves
in burgundy and olive
Soon the eyes
were frozen in powder
Ashen shadows blew
across barren groves
of spindled spruce
and howled
with December's lonely moon
But from my fire lit window
I hold fast to memories
of daffodils and oranges
mingled with the burn
of lemon tears
7/16/17
A day’s routine so easily holds me captive.
I confess to mindless, museless departures,
Brainless unpoetic habits so unreflective,
That I cannot dwell in momentary textures.
But January ripens oranges on my neighbor’s tree,
Marking spring’s beginning in California.
Midwestern groomed; such play awakens me.
Fat, lush oranges tumble all over the area.
Bold bright balls, they must be painted,
Landing in my drive, my car mashes them.
With this mortal crush, I breach life sacred.
Yet, once I eat one, it’s no longer a problem.
Tree of oranges brings fruit reviving passion.
Luscious harvest renewal of vibrant conception.
From a seed to tree
from the soil to me
green little leaves
saplings grow wild
the citrus smell
growing strong
roots deep into earth
breaking the surface
mother earths birth
be bare in winter
to fall in the fall
and green in the spring
bring summer shade
the fruits grow
tender shell
sweet smell
standing under my citrus tree. -TA
A Crayon Color or Citrus Fruit Orange
Color, aroma
Citrus fruit divide guess I
Eat color or fruit
10/15/17
by James Edward Lee Sr.
Mango horizons,
Grapefruit sun sinks in the sea:
Apricot sunset.
Clementine and Valentine; Margarita and Sangria...
A Mandarine, a Lime, a Blood Orange, and a Valencia...
Each one occupying particular spots,
Four little trees residing in decorative pots.
They might feel their placement's not right;
As they only get just a few hours sunlight.
They look down at the strawberries below,
Wishing they had such space for their roots to grow.
Even worse, to add insult to their injury,
They must share their pots with plants of the mint family--
Lower plants that the Planter didn't bother to name--
Certainly near-weeds of dubious fame.
Margarita and Sangria, Clementine and Valentine
Will be transplanted someday; they're just biding their time.
You get on my nerves,
you make me walk back and forth
pull my hair off
and even yell
you make me blame myself
not knowing why
but I let you play
hate or love?
that's the game
Suddenly, a smile on my face
I feel silly, I protest
you like the hate
that seems to be cute
but I try to be hard
hard to get,
silence,
this is...
an endless game.
Water rushing, steam rising, accompanied by the scent of citrus.
Breathing in the scent of citrus suds to ground myself.
Trying to keep myself sane.
Water racing down my face, washing away the stress and pain of the day.
No longer drowning the day out with water, back to reality.
Sunny Florida
Green palms and scents of citrus
...Vacation over
Absentmindedly, I placed
the slice of orange
in my mouth.
As my teeth penetrated
the thin outer skin
the flavor burst on my senses
like fourth of July sparklers.
I closed my eyes
to savor the moment.
Slowly, I chewed
as the sweet, tangy
juice filled my mouth
and ran down my chin.
Greedily, I ate
but could not recapture
the utter delight
of that very first bite.
Lemons
accomplish
more than blues will,
oranges, only peel for
sunsets
... when life gives you lemons you might suffer from scurvy ...
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.
Don’t try to make common Lemon,
Though we know Lemon is common:
Those who do obeying Demon,
King David’s wayward son Amon…
No risks of sleeping with sister
Nor by her begetting a mister -
Lemon is quite medicinal,
Rejecting the point criminal;
By the average white treasured,
Whose clear merits he has measured…
Lemon: Green Citrus here with us
Yet, oranges we’d fill in bus,
By this showing on the juicy
Man incurably the choosy…
Feared by Cancer: The Terminal
On this have been works: seminal;
Still for Nigerians Tangerine,
Just like for Guitar Tambourine…
But this won’t be changing its grant
Of a smell uniquely fragrant.
Have you ever had a Christmas Tea?
I used to say, "It's not for me"
'Til recently, I tried it, see
Turns out it's the best I've had
See, I never liked hot drinks at all
I much prefer cold, in the fall
I order iced, in sizes tall
But this one isn't bad
It smells like citrus in the house
While the radio plays Strauss
Nothing's moving, not a mouse
Eyes open, just a tad