Oh, I've got the meter, feel and time,
My favorite quill, sharpened fine.
A goblet filled with poet's wine,
But gods how, does a mortal rhyme;
with orange?

We describe its shape,
so spherical!
We add a witty jab,
Hysterical!
We use a subject as subtext for something
Because something rhymes with nothing

We talk about its rind
So a-peeling!
We hint to its dark past
Chaos concealing
We reject having to rhyme orange with something
Because - thank gods -;
Something rhymes with nothing

Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Mayan, in the year 1000 AF.