Thee Orange Poem by Perry Campanella

Thee Orange



Our poet be thee,
set, too rest her feet,
under thee full o'le orange tree
in her hand an orange, eyed too eat,

Searchin' her brain she wondered...
'Can't a rhyme for thy Orange be'
she peeled thy rind in wonder;
'this rind can be rhymed by thee'

1) In despair, no rhyme wow-we
2) for thy orange
3) only thee Rind, thus there be
4) ?

(why these two lines are empty)

1) ?
She began to eat
her orange...Orange
in defeat. :)

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