~

like water-colored rivulets
her ringlets drop and fall,
wisteria drips and pours,
in hues of lavenders and mauve,
adds aroma to this palace,
awaits her turn to
loose her blossoms too,
to spill her paint
onto this palette
and the fresh mown grass below,
where her sister’s cherry petals
like confetti scattered;
bits of pink and white,
strewn by unseen hands;
like connecting stars,
each one random lands
upon this grassy space;
the barefeet they await,
in hush... anticipate,
as if with longing sigh,
this their preparation,
purposed hours lived;
to hear the children, sweet;
listen to their laughter,
and feel the dance of
lover’s grass-stained feet!
blossom only for this moment,
like amethysts in strands,
her chains of violet
drape the trellis,
release into the twilight
perfumes not made by man;
and slowly evening fades,
the children's calls
grow ever distant,
as one by one,
they're summoned home;
and lovers draw
each other close,
as they find
themselves alone;
immersed in silence,
amidst the fragrance,
as softly flowers
drift to sleep,
dream in vespers  
whispered song,
of the coming day,
of star-kissed dew,
and the light
of early morn,
to begin it all
...anew. 

~

*post script.

one needs no further
inspiration than creation;
where her blossoms beckon,
her fragrance soothes,
her colors set us in the mood;
the cherry and wisteria blooms
in my front yard being
the perfect place to begin!
this is for good reason
my favorite time
and season here
in the pacific northwest.