Orange Blossom Trail

I'm walking down Orange Blossom Trail.
I'm seeing all the flowers pedal in the air.
There is a bright sun but only mild heat.
A warm southern wind blows a smell that is sweet.

I get to the river bend and sit in a swing.
Its late afternoon now, and the song birds sing.
The river makes waves and a rhythm so fair.
My sorrows are soothed just from me sitting there.

Across the way I hear children scream.
But the terror is play and it doesn't mean a thing.
The only pain they really have is a bumble bee sting.
And the treatment is easy, physical and fleeting.

Oh, the fecund days of Spring!
Intoxicating odors, sounds of mating.
Pulses for a moment and begins abating.
The winter comes and with it the hating.