A globe of gold, spun here in autumn’s light,
A glowing jewel plucked from southern skies,
With glossy skin that shines against the night
And tender sweetness underneath its guise.
A vibrant mandarin, so bold and bright,
Bears still one leaf of deep, enamelled green,
A verdant mantle perched upon its height,
To crown the splendour of this citrus queen.
It slumbers on a cloth of soft design,
Where patterned threads in muted colours weave,
A gentle splash of summer’s golden shine,
A little sun that seems to bid us leave.
Is ORANGE what we call this sunlit sphere,
Or MANDARIN that crowns the passing year?
What’s the Mandarin For Orange?
(A sonnet in iambic pentameter)
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