On a windy day, I saw her standing there, <br />Underneath the jacaranda tree. <br />With purple blossoms in her hair, <br />Amidst a purple sea. <br /> <br />The purple reflected in her eyes, <br />As the clouds went rolling by. <br />I swear I could hear the angels cries, <br />From heaven's throne on high. <br /> <br />Underneath the jacaranda tree, <br />A little fountain ran. <br />With crystal waters running pure and free, <br />The purest in the land. <br /> <br />In the fountain she dipped her hand, <br />In crystal waters cold and fine. <br />And let water drip on the sugar white sands, <br />Long ago when she was mine. <br /> <br />The jacaranda tree withstood the test of time, <br />It has grown old along with me. <br />The purple blossoms still wax divine, <br />They rain down falling free. <br /> <br />And the wind blew through the boughs, <br />Of the jacaranda tree. <br />Raining purple like it still does now, <br />But she is gone from me. <br /> <br />When the jacaranda tree blooms in the spring, <br />And purple blossoms fill the sky. <br />I hear her and the angels when they sing, <br />Somewhere in heaven, way up high.<br /><br />Juan Olivarez<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/underneath-the-jacaranda-tree/
