At lunchtime I bought a huge orange—
By dinner it had begun to stink
Rotting from the inside out–
I tossed it in the kitchen sink
Out of sight out of mind
I went to bed, perchance to dream
But nightmares rose from noxious fumes
And woke me with a desperate scream
Now I know to clear the stink
and find the joy in simple things
The orange must be crushed
By the constant wave of beating azure wings
Thanks to the W3 challenge for the chance to share.
https://skepticskaddish.com/2026/11/04/w3-prompt-236-weave-written-weekly/
This not so subtle verse was inspired by the opening line of Wendy Cope’s The Orange. I tried to keep the same sense of style / whimsy / gratitude while also flipping it a bit.
