4/5/05
By: Cynthia Wilson
Title by Dave Gerbstadt
Crayons set the scene
for the dancing palette
the colors so serene
the sun shines on the trees
The light in every window
The orange ball in the sky
The fruit that so many enjoy
The one hanging on the tree up high
I throw the oranges in the box car
cause I don't like their smell
Their taste is bitter to me
But the boyscouts have them to sell
And they are in a truck now
so those who pass by
show that citrus draws the crowds
but I still can't understand why
In NY there was an exhibit once
a display to be seen
the citrus on long poles
bright colors on every beam.
Ah, the memories.
Crayons set the scene
for the dancing palette
the colors so serene
the sun shines on the trees
The light in every window
The orange ball in the sky
The fruit that so many enjoy
The one hanging on the tree up high
I throw the oranges in the box car
cause I don't like their smell
Their taste is bitter to me
But the boyscouts have them to sell
And they are in a truck now
so those who pass by
show that citrus draws the crowds
but I still can't understand why
In NY there was an exhibit once
a display to be seen
the citrus on long poles
bright colors on every beam.
Ah, the memories.
