Lingering Fragrance

She stood at the edge of the meadow,

Which was with a violet colour aglow.

Soft pretty flowers sensually trickled her bare feet,

Dew moistened grass glistened silver like a sheet.

The land undulated with rows and rows of lavender,

Their delicate fragrance wafted through the heavenly atmosphere.

Soft spiky shoots with their lavender tips,

Had even the scenic beauty of the nearby sparkling river eclipsed.

The Earth shone in a colourful hue,

Amidst the violet, bright yellow sun birds flew,

Gliding and pecking the nectar from the flowers,

A visage so beautiful, she could gaze at it for hours.

She ran joyously between the rows,

Touching and glancing the shrubs like a frisky little doe.

The aroma of the beauteous mauve flowers,

Filled her senses and her eyes the purple carpet devoured.

She marveled at God’s creation so brilliantly crafted,

A colour so imperial dotted with dancing butterflies that it attracted.

She too had myriad memories of being amidst these blooms,

When in childhood, she had accompanied her granny to gather these plumes.

 

Collecting the pale lilac stalks as many as she could,

She arranged them neatly in her box of wood.

Drying the flowers and packing them in cotton wool,

Brought back memories of her happy childhood.

Her grandmother’s cottage used to be filled with these wispy blossoms,

Dried lavender sachets were always found scattered amongst clothes and cushions.

The unforgettable aromatic handmade oils and lotions,

Is her precious inheritance of her grand mom’s potions.