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Underneath The Jacaranda Tree

On a windy day, I saw her standing there,
Underneath the jacaranda tree.
With purple blossoms in her hair,
Amidst a purple sea.

The purple reflected in her eyes,
As the clouds went rolling by.
I swear I could hear the angels cries,
From heaven's throne on high.

Underneath the jacaranda tree,
A little fountain ran.
With crystal waters running pure and free,
The purest in the land.

In the fountain she dipped her hand,
In crystal waters cold and fine.
And let water drip on the sugar white sands,
Long ago when she was mine.

The jacaranda tree withstood the test of time,
It has grown old along with me.
The purple blossoms still wax divine,
They rain down falling free.

And the wind blew through the boughs,
Of the jacaranda tree.
Raining purple like it still does now,
But she is gone from me.

When the jacaranda tree blooms in the spring,
And purple blossoms fill the sky.
I hear her and the angels when they sing,
Somewhere in heaven, way up high.

poem by Juan Olivarez
Added by Poetry Lover
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