Garden Gift
Written for Seafoam Lavender
By the Q.O.E.
July 12, 2018
A delicate shrub of no imposing mien..
In garments from grey-ish to green;
It grows on the hillsides and out on the moors,
But only in summer is seen.
By winter it seems to be fading away,
Its withering no one can fix.
As snow melts and clouds part, with spring on the way,
It resembles a field full of sticks.
April and May and a good share of June,
Miracles fail to break out:
Then sunlight and showers and chants do their work…
Little green leaves start to sprout.
At last comes that moment sometime in July,
When faeries must give it more room,
The lavender straightens its shoulders and chin,
And fairly explodes into bloom.
Then, oh, what a riot of color is seen,
Kings’ robes can’t compete, it is true:
When lavender suddenly steals center stage
In all shades of purple and blue.
The neighbors come running, cars veer off the road;
Photographers snap without shame.
The lavender knows that its stardom is brief,
But just loves its moments of fame.