Born where careful hands once tended ground,
A citrus gift in gardens found,
From mandarin and orange sweet,
A fruit where histories gently meet.

Named for Brother Clement long ago,
In orphaned rows where hope would grow,
By nineteen-two its name took hold,
A simple story softly told.

When warmth rises a bit too fast,
And heavy meals are slow to pass,
A drop or two in drink or tea,
Can help the stomach calmer be.

For skin and hair that seek a lift,
Its cleansing touch becomes a gift,
In wash or shampoo stirred just right,
It leaves the hair and skin feel light.

In smoothies bright or desserts fair,
Its flavor dances lightly there,
Just drops enough to wake the blend,
A citrus note from start to end.

On counters, tables, surfaces too,
It boosts the clean you’re working through,
Fresh scent remains when work is done,
Leaving spaces lightly spun.