Orange

only one orange

is blazing like the sun

brought down to earth

only kinder.

no sunburn.

an orange wrapped like a present

a little hard to open

but when you do

isn't it the kingdom of orange

made just for you

orange orange

overfilled with orange

the soul spills over into laughter

orange through and through

orange peel remaining

you could file under Oh.

it's gone now.

and wish for another.

but that is asking for so much

when your hands still 

smell like flowers.

mary angela douglas 21 december 2013

Note on Poem: I haven't eaten an orange for over seven years.  It's complicated.  Difficult to ride the bus.  Difficult to chew the stringy ones on sale.  Easier to store frozen fruit and lighter to carry than a bag of them would be.  Today someone gave me a Christmas orange. And I wrote this poem to express the amazement I feel (and felt as a child) that one small fruit could hold so much joy. And bo so orange.  Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift of the Orange.