Orange Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The Orange has Children Too

Yes, my Monsignor
Oranges have children oranges
But not so noisy.

Monuments of almost-immotility
And of slow feelings
The oranges have children
Too.

I saw them hanging ready
For the taking
Or else for the rotting
And the seed-ejection

But
When they reproduce
On a large scale
Miniature of
The common ancestor tree
Of knowledge and of thought
And Principles and wisdom
Then
They will hide in moon-less
Nights.

They will think always.
I walked by casually
And did not hear
Their brains thinking
Beating
With the warmth
Of the day's dreariness
Of the heart beat of it
In its wild restlessness

Ah! for the orange
Albeit slow what multiplication!

Yes, my Monsignor
Oranges have children oranges
But not so noisy
To us lecturers and
Examples
My monsignor.