Beautiful photos and amazing poetry by a talented poet.
the crisp autumnal rain
is apple-spiced and
lavendered with memories
that warm my morning tea.
This is not a poem
just the scent of one I once renounced.
The one I thought was too morose,
of deep blue, almost indigo.
I’d asked her to be happier.
(a subtle lavender).
I buried her a teary night
I thought my words were lost.
But now she presses up new leaves,
a bit of hope for me to breathe.
The light is dying in the arms of evening —
swooning to his symphony of darkness.
She unravels into lavender
dressed in lilac-pink and lyricism.
Strumming notes across the sky,
he shimmers constellations
to the shape of a guitar.
Their music saturates to night.
I dream in fields of lavender.
All four walls and bedspread.
Everything I’ve ever loved
has scents and…
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