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Lavender
There's something about lavender that excites me
Like driving through Provence in an old 2CV
Roof rolled back, windows flipped open
Feel the sun on my face and smell fresh fragrance of pollen
Arm out and hand feeling the passing air
Trying to catch the essence of what is there
This is not a time, a moment, a second to be missed
When what you see, in mind and spirit, is bliss
So when I came across rows of bluish purple hue
I stopped, opened a bottle and drank a glass or two
And as I watched the sun slowly set in all its splendour
I toasted the one they call lavender
poem
by
JeanJacques Evendon
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