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Orange
August 25, 2008
It looks like a sunset rising over a vacant beach, in the summer.
Seagulls waslk across the sand, then get distracted by fish in the water.
It smells of freshly picked oranges, squeezed into a pulp to make juice.
Its sounds like children giggling, as they play the carnival games.
They spin th whell aroun and around, hoping to win a prize.
It tastes like melting popsicles in the hot summer sun.
Our hands get sticky, but we dont care as we continue eating.
Orange makes me feel peaceful, like there is a calming in the world.
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This article has 1 comment.
miss.bliss1 said...
on Sep. 4 2008 at 11:37 pm
Very nice poem. Very..discriptive.
