Fields of lavender stretch away
Soft purple flowers lulled to sway
Under the harsh light of day
And equally harsh words
They don't have ears like corn
Or hearts like lettuce mourns
But they sway with the shade of dawn
Bow under harsh words
The scent they give screams relax
The trembling flowers show the cracks
The trodden down stems like broken backs
Under the weight of people who don't care
The bees hum around with frantic intent
They work but barely make a dent
And after all the time they spent
We eat their mouthful of honey
The sun burns fierce over lavender fields
Unaware of the power it wields
Wanting only to protect and shield
While the soft purple flowers dry out
Children pound across the baking earth
Dodging bees and laughing mirth
So confident in their own worth
Until harsh words crystallise
Does lavender calm or just detach?
This should have been a screaming match
Harsh words my tongue is quick to catch
And for once I do not hurl them back
The wind sweeps over the fields in a wave
The lavender regrets the sweet smell it gave
My heart suddenly feels concave
But for once it's easy to walk away
***
Lavender is probably one of my favourite smells, along with cinnamon, birch sap and petrichor.
What are yours?
Alex xxx
YOU ARE READING
Under My Sofa
PoetryWhen I was little I wrote in the space under my sofa. Now I write on top of it. That's not poetic. I'm just too big to fit underneath anymore.
