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I never heard much of love playing in my ear;
as I've never heard David's secret chord to the Lord.
The melodies of affection and adoration never caressed
my ears or resonated within my soul. The sweet symphony
of love's harmonies, like the ethereal hymns sung by angels,
were foreign to my senses.

Sitting beneath the orange hues of a radiant sunset,
I found solace under the sheltering branches of an orange tree.
The soft caress of its delicate leaves brushed against my cheeks,
a gentle reminder of nature's embrace.

It felt as if love itself had taken a bite into the core of my being, leaving me intoxicated with its sweetness.
With every gulp of life, it filled me with an abundance of
emotions, leaving me speechless in its presence.

As I peeled away the layers of my pride, surrendering to
the vulnerability of love, it felt as if my very
skin was shedding, revealing the raw essence of my soul.
Like the strings of a guitar that linger in your mouth after a
heartfelt melody, love entangled my words, weaving
a intricate web of emotions that silenced me in its grasp.
The profundity of love was a force that rendered me
speechless, for words seemed insufficient to express its
depth and magnitude.

Yet, from above, a divine intervention occurred,
painting the sky with a vivid tapestry of orange hues.
It was a visual feast, a breathtaking experience to witness
the perfect alignment of colors and light. Floating amidst
the vastness of the heavens, this celestial swirl of orange
was a testament to the magnitude of love, a display of its
boundless beauty.

Within the ever-rotating circle of this enchanting spectacle,
I discovered an unparalleled love.  An elusive concept in this imperfect world, true and perfect love revealed itself to me.

It was a love beyond human comprehension, a love that
transcended all notions of imperfection.
This divine love, the love of God, illuminated my path
and transformed my perception of what love could truly be.
c Nov 2023
I love you.

That's to say,
I sent you a text before leaving for work:
"There's half of an orange on the counter for you"
Gabrielle Sep 2023
You’re orange to me
When we met at the beach
The passenger door light
Lit your face a warm peach

So orange we’ll be
As the sun goes down
A ripe mandarin
That never goes brown
Battle not for red and blue
They’re both the same machine
The real choice that’s coming up
Is orange versus green

Bitcoin holds your value well
Come join the Bitcoin scene
Skip inflation’s stealthy theft
Choose orange versus green

From Iceland to Australia
And countries in between
People are awakening
To orange versus green

Money made by central banks
With printing that’s obscene
You can pick another way
Choose orange versus green

Break free from your assumptions
And question your routine
For everyone can benefit
From orange over green
You can see this poem on a background here -
Serendipity Feb 2023
The ground is
littered with orange peels
and the stain of citrus
is in the air.

Tender and juicy is the love,
I share my slices with you
I know the orange analogy and sharing slices is overused but it is such a classic I had to write about it.
Mamolefe Oct 2022
I often find myself chasing gold these days.

Whether it is burning my fingers raw as I dig under sand
or by starring zealously at the sun.

Yellow and Orange have turned into my favourite colours of joy and pain. It’s tones hiding secrets I wish to understand behind my own skin.

They are forcing me to fast through bananas and naartjies; discipline myself with lemons and butternut.
Mark Wanless May 2022
orange and black stripes
bulge on the fat belly of
the well fed tiger
annh Dec 2021
A swamp cypress
******* at an orange while the rain falls


Tacky fingered and smelling of citrus
T-shirt front stained
Warm with juice,
I taste

‘When oranges came in, a curious proceeding was gone through. Miss Jenkyns did not like to cut the fruit, for, as she observed, the juice all ran out nobody knew where, ******* [only I think she used some more recondite word] was in fact the only way of enjoying oranges; but then there was the unpleasant association with a ceremony frequently gone through by little babies; and so, after dessert, in orange season, Miss Jenkyns and Miss Matty used to rise up, possess themselves each of an orange in silence, and withdraw to the privacy of their own rooms to indulge in ******* oranges.’
- Elizabeth Gaskell, Cranford
N Dec 2021
As I stood by a window  
smoking a mint cigarette
at my miserable job

I saw two butterflies
flying together

One was orange, and
the other was white  

Two lovesome creatures
existing at the same time as us

The orange one made
me picture you peeling a
clementine to share with me

The white one reminded me
that there is still beauty in life,
and it is greater than my pain

There are more butterflies
that I have not seen yet, and
I wish I could see them with you
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