Poetry eZine ~ April 2012

Thursday, April 12

DM Denton: The Lavenders

A sprig on the wrist
a spell for a plague
is worth two
in the bush
where the Lavenders
lay their cares.

Such a fair flower
stolen like sinning
sweeter than
scented from heaven
lost on earth.

Found to be useful
for washing and cures
of body
and heart ache
lullaby-ing sleep
and madness.

Such ladies at work
their laundry to air
for rumors
to ruin them
unless modesty
can save them.

All through the ages
a toiling to some
and leisure
for others
somehow a likeness
in essence.

For how they do grow
well drain’d in full sun
or covered
in winter
with still enough breath
to live on.

Clusters of secrets
that beg to be kept
for sachets
and strewing
their hopes to the wind
and a way.

No comments:

Post a Comment