In The Quietude of Orange

In The Quietude of Orange And as a mother it held me once beneath the white shade of the Holm-oak, and it'd pass over me when I'd tread in tired fields with a smile that beckons to more tender visions; and I once held a lover between the light of my fingers, more deeper into those fields than God could possibly imagine from myself. And the trembling laughter of release I felt once in its glory along the shrubberies, and above the wet soil still afresh from the rain of yesterday which had yet to seep in with love of a mother, to gentle its cause with heed; and the strawberries did smile once beneath that orange flame, as did all who felt in the wind a female caress. And I moved into the sun once to smile at and to rid of all that useless pain, it would call me son and it would shine to fill me upon the tenderness of melancholy; under it I leapt into many a sea or fancy, but now that yearning overcomes, all I can see beneath the white shade of the Holm-oak is the orange light withering across my face.