Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Quartet



Lavender quartet on our
Kitchen counter--
Spikes and drying buds, 
Bracts sing of 
Old countries, oil, infusions
Of saffron, cinnamon,
In a Song of Solomon.
I believe they grew--
Like me, like you-- where
Flowers fell among nations,
Eras, epochs, along the ancient
Iron veins of Earth, on stone--
Over broken granite bones--
Birth, birth and rebirth,
Here, where this strain sings
With its world under 
Sunlight,  under rain.




12 comments:

  1. I came across some old directions for weaving lavender cages recently, and handed the page off to a more nimble fingered granddaughter. It certainly is a plant of the ages.

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    1. Indeed, lavender belongs to the ages as much as it does to the present.

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  2. I can smell the scent of lavender. I see the history it evokes. Lovely poem.

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    1. Thanks, Emma. Anything that danced the continental drift has my admiration.

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  3. Dear Geo., Spanish lavender is loved by the bees and me on the balcony. I admire how Norma caught the light of the little vases.
    Yes, definitely an old species. To me it looks like the feather-adornment the Amerindian Chiefs wore. ('Amerindian' I just learned now).
    Drove through the lavender fields of Grasse. Overwhelming. And to me lavender has another connotation for "old": my beloved grandma (the redblooded one) always wore lavender perfume, always.

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    1. Dear Brigitta, thank you! Indeed, certain scents can recall fond memories and bring the light of other days around us. Will convey your compliment to Norma too.

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  4. From the beginning to the end of your poem, holding my breath until last words...lavender is a blessing in my garden. And geraniums.

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    1. Most kind. Thank you for reading my poem, and for gardening --a stewardship that keeps a world alive.

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  5. Your words are wonderful, deep and stirring.

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    1. Thanks Tom! Your generous comment means a lot to me.

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  6. Nicely done.
    Wonderful combo too. Must smell good.

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    1. Thanks, Lux, the melody is in the fragrance.

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