A Florida Grove after Dawn

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The white of orange blossom petals seems

Much higher in the morning when the light

First licks them fully.  They awake from dreams,

From fragrant citrus dreams, to newer, bright

Attention at the dome-like height of dark

And glossy green.  A fragrance maker may

Invoke a white perfume far, far from stark

And so he adds vanilla to the spray

And ambergris he adds.  A stamen sings

In whispered yellows and, though zingy, they

Hope more for jasmine, jasmine in the wings

Of seraphs.  This is citrus heaven’s display.

  The humble honeybee flies in and nips

    Sun pollen and from nectar cups she sips.