I Dreamed Of Oranges
I dreamed of oranges
In a white china bowl
On a brown teak wood table
In a small yellow kitchen.
I could smell the fragrance
Hanging in the sun beamed air
So sweet and tangy
I could almost taste them.
Checked blue curtains billowed
In the gentle morning breeze
The window was open
And somewhere a child sang softly.
I stood in the doorway, puzzled
Something felt so right
Something seemed so wrong
But I didn't know what it was.
My eyes caught the sight
Of a tiny baby shirt
Hanging on a clothesline
Swaying, swaying back and forth.
A dog chased a big black cat
Through tulip beds of red and purple
And in a moment of bravery
The cat turned and stood still as stone.
There were no cars, no radios
The world was strangely silent
Except for the wind blown lullaby
Of the faraway child.
The floor was cool on my bare feet
But it felt so good and comforting
I walked into the sun beam
And took a fruit in my trembling hand.
I peeled diligently in one long peel
Until I got to the last piece
And then it broke off and hit the floor
So loudly that it woke me up.
So sweet, so juicy, so tantalizing
I raised my dusty hand to my mouth
Lying there in the baked red desert
Dying of thirst and dying of longing.
I dreamed of oranges
In a white china bowl.
©by Voo
Aug 13, 07
10 p.m.
Play video at same time as you read the poem
Ghost Song by Max Ablitzer
