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Тадеус Aug 2014
Lavender sunset fills western sky
Crickets starts to sing their song.
As twilight fades into night shades,
I am utterly surrounded by God's love.
In darkest colours I see distant lightning,
And His love is all around me...
I am reminded of that from another,
A bloom of encouragement.
Even in the darkness now,
I remember by yon rose.
Lavender sunset and
Lavender rose.

© Тадеус 8-20-2014 9:20 pm
Все права защищены.
My lavender is burnt and loveless;
Painful, devoured and helpless,
Weak by the side of its dying corpse;
Solitary yet at an age so young.

My lavender cries in its daydreams;
Giggles in sorrowful screams,
And faints and dies beneath fun daylight;
As though tortured and wounded by the sun.

My lavender wriggles in isolation;
Like those ragged clothes in damnation
And there's no more death between heaven and hell--
For none is alive, nor breathes to live.

My lavender longs not to drink nor die;
But it sleeps by the hushed setting moon,
Trapped behind the tail of his lethal winds;
Blinded by too many mysteries, unseen.

My lavender peels its own skinny bones;
Its quaint lust cut and fiercely torn,
Teased by the cold trees of summertime;
Faded by the sweet whispers of time.

My lavender eats its own bloodless veins;
And its hateful friendless world,
Having laughed at anonymous walls
Marveled at unspoken poems.

My lavender drinks of its own soul;
And to love now is but to have none,
With her autumn love stolen by fate;
All her gripping sonnets are far too late.
Mygreatestescape Nov 2015
Lavender is pink

Lavender is blue

Lavender is all the shades

that remind me of you

When I am queen

You'll be my king

And our palace of lavender

beneath these shades

of blue.
Bluebird Dec 2014
I remember her.*

On days like these,
she would light up
a few oriental sticks
to make our house
smell like lavender.

On days like these,
she would make some tea.
She had her own rituals,
she dried some herbs,
by the window,
and,when i think about it ,
her hair smelled like lavender.

On days like these,
she would take long showers,
and sit by the fire,
waiting her hair to dry,
and i would kiss her skin,
and touch her body,
which had a scent of lavander.

On days like these,
she would stay until dawn,
to watch the snow fall,
her soul had traces of lavander.

On days like these,
she would lay in bed,
she would talk to me for hours,
until all the pillows and sheets
had a smell of lavender.

on days like this i would
bring home many gifts for her,
but i picked only the ones which
smelled like lavender.

This year she is gone,
but the snow...
it has bittersweet smell
attached to it,
a smell that is familiar,
it smells like lavender.
Helena B Oct 2013
Lavender tea
Reminds me
Of you
And the time
We ran
A forest
And rolled around
In a meadow
The stars
Broke the silence
Of the night

Lavender tea
Reminds me
Of your eyes
They are green
Your eyes bring me peace
I imagine your sweet
Green eyes
I always seem to sink
Into your sea-green ocean

Lavender tea
Reminds me of you
All those chilly Autumn nights
When we would lay
Humming along
To our lavender song
A calming memory

We stare at the same stars
Every time
I can feel your bodies heat
Warming up mine

Lavender tea
Reminds me
Of the memories
We keep and will keep
Lying deep
Within our eyes
And thoughtfully
Staring at the stars.
Meh why are you so beautiful. This poem is okay. Blah blah blah. I miss you. Especially your eyes~
Umi Feb 2018
Mixing tea, let's say lavender with something as simple as milk
Must sound silly and weird at first glance, as both come with their
own tastes and flavors which seem to not match at all.
Even the most unmatching couple can find bliss, harmony and
perfection in their very relationship, however.
Such as for the tea;

The milk manages to soften, embrace, advertise the taste of lavender
while leaving a pleasant aftertaste which is alike a ghost poorly
detectable, but present nonetheless after all.
With some sugar to sweeten this experience, it becomes divine,
something I would never have thought of, of such an odd couple.
The image of the lavender becomes overdrawn by the milk,
Engaging in a pure, creamy, brief white which reflects light just
in a majestic sense.
This is a taste to become lost in whilst reading a book in the best
of lightings, together with someone who causes your heart to race
and just turn ablaze

~ Umi
Deadwood Jawn Jan 2019
You are Lavender.
          The sweetest of pink.
             The most soothing of all.
                In your eyes roared the hurt.
                  Within your soul screamed pain.
                    And on your arms signalled agony.
                                                                ­   Yet you kept me out.
                         I took a sledgehammer to your walls.
                          A pile-driver through the sides.
                             Violent persistence.
                                Desperate carmine care.
                          ­                                        I needed to have your heart.

                                    You were in my skin for a while.
                                       Since that day I made you my sin.
                                         You left behind a Lavender aura.
                                           Right there! on the wall.

                                                                ­   I should've ****** you
                                                             ­      while I had the chance.
                                              Augh! ******! No!

                                               Your saccharine smile.
                                                 Your aura.
                                                   Your aura was Lavender.
                                                     You were Lavender.
                                                  ­        And I fell in love with what
                                                            ­I wanted you to be.

                                                              Ki­ss me again.
                                                          ­      Please make me yours.
                                                          ­        Slice my arteries
                                                        ­            and tie us together.
                                                       ­               Then let me taste
                                                           ­             your ******* Lavender,
                                                       ­                    my lady.
(View on computer)
I'm remembering.. someone. An ex. We didn't last long in the slightest, and yet.. I did not guard my heart against her.
Marian Dec 2012
Lavender, Lavender where do you bloom?
"In the garden but you picked me and put me in a vase in your room."

Lavender, Lavender how did you get there?
"You picked me up and put me in a vase so my perfume could fill the air."

To be behind a slight disguise
behind those liquid lavender eyes

Long search hard to find
a special soul nothing unkind

A feeling strong a heart that's true
but wait, I think they're deep deep blue

I stare into a certain fate
I feel the pulse with quickened gate

Into those eyes I do fall
spirit image and magic call

I an certain this is no illusion
wonderful real no confusion

Lavender eyes forever together
sharing time with my beautiful feather

Lavender eyes no disguise
I gaze into those Lavender Eyes
This poem was published in 2006 in a hard cover compilation entitled
"TIMELESS VOICES" by The International Library of Poetry. It received
The Editors Choice Award from managing editor Howard Ely. It was also
nominated for Poem of the Year 2007 by the registry.
Available at Amazon.  Thank you for reading
Sjr1000 Nov 2014
Your lavender love
it falls to pieces
falls to pieces
everywhere you go.

Your lavender love
hits the ground
and scatters
all around
all around.

You walk in trails
of flowers blooming
in all the sounds
of harmony
a magical touch
which heals all
pain, and words
which soothe
during midnight

You come on the
breath of the winds
you leave that
same way

Your lavender love
it falls to pieces
falls to pieces
every where you go.
Where it comes from
where it goes
I really don't know.

Your lavender love
it falls to pieces
we go. love
There's an earthy blood-smell to lavender
It surprises you when the nose gets too close
Once you get past the modest skirted blooms
To find the green blood of torn out flower
Fetid black dirt clings to blood ragged roots
Blue-black blood of returning vena cava
Lavender scented babies and lavender tinted men
Planted for eternity underneath fertile soil
And blood-rise suns bake their tender heads
Blood drenched scent tempts the droning insects wing
Their distilled spirits resurrected in hives
Their earthly blood now ours to imbibe.
Streams of colour
In constant motion
showing shades of beauty hidden
Powered by the wind
As it caresses the river of scent
Gently, softly, lovingly
And moves through the rows
Never stopping, always moving
Following the wind
Lavender tributaries
in a Sensual  scented sea of colour
Never ending.
Inspired by a photo by William artist friend and talent extraordinairre
Olivia May 2018
Lavender words written on perfect lined paper
I wrote you a letter; I’ll save it for later
Lavender tongues speak colorful phrases
I wrote you a sonnet; it only took ages

Lavender words penned in purple glow’d ink
I read you a book, it did make me think
Lavender songs turned clandestine quickly
I read you a poem, you listened with me

Lavender skies turn purple at night
I looked up and saw them; the world was alight
Lavender clouds unleash torrential showers
But here in the woods we’ll hide out for hours
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
from the simple email, to now a pitch-perfect complication
of the internet - no performance poetry found here -
performance meaning singing, meaning cascade of rhymes
to help you memorise sentences and shake your hands
about - ekphrasis (εκφρασις) - performance stand-up
but not stand-out - i'm not complaining, i'm just feeling
the fear and loathing too - or according to M. Schmidt (
no, not Martin Schmitt, the ski-jumper, but then again
the two seem almost indistinguishable when said -
counter e.g. gnome - 'nome and schmi'dt'dt'dt'tt stutter
at the end of words rather than at the beginning before
the dam gates open for the word to flow out from).
besides the point, can you imagine Kant using the phrase
a fortiori in his work that uses only a priori and
a posteriori? i only came across it today - but given
the big *** systematic approaches, you'd find it hard
to squeeze in a fortiori into the complex narrative -
an entire blackboard of mathematical proof concerning
disallowing the end product to be ∞: in philosophy that means
explaining something on a universal basis, the entire human
concern for things said, things done, things owned -
inserting the term a fortiori where once came a priori
would be a disaster for the Kantian narrative, he'd
have to write another critique all on its own to insert that phrase
among a complete systematisation of that phrase -
well the funny thing is, this expression goes in line with that
i observed about left and right, hands eyes whatever -
indefinite a- and the definite -the articles and then an ism -
i sometimes feel funny or at least embarrassed that i keep
repeating this notice from time to time -
but you would expect me to include gravity too,
or how i used to be a flower thief in spring bordering
on winter, plucking the eager flowers in the frost around
the countryside - well, i revived that practice today,
plucked two stalks of lavender (they were pinching my
nose when i walked past with a beer) and something
resembling lavender... google-moment... if only they
created apps that could tell you what flower it is you're
trying to identify, search engine impromptu -
well... it's either a coin-toss between
summersweet (clethra alnifolia) or butterfly bush
(buddleia davidii) - but it could be something else -
cigarette, beer and sniffing lavender, just my kind of night -
i swear to god i once drank a lavender-flavoured beer,
or cider... i can't remember -
but by definition, when i look at philosophy books i feel
they're much too bound to something said earlier
and followed by something to support it -
or in the case of a fortiori the expanded-upon basics,
i.e.: from a / the stronger (thing) - which means
it's a dual-carriage way of saying what you want to say:
from a stronger thing - from the stronger thing -
in real life that's like: what we get from a telescope,
or? what we get from a microscope -
stars aplenty - G-Rex 5571 in the Zodiac constellation,
U80802Z from the constellation of Poseidon -
i mean, flimsy answers - sky's the limit - then
the azure cage hovers over us during the day and
we turn to daydreams packing apples into crates -
telescope: oh airy-fairy, somewhere far far away -
microscope: got that needle and thread with you?
well, whatever we have, we know that our minds are
not build for the omni- affix when affixed to anything,
esp. god. Jews never bothered with it - there are just
as many necessary limitations of a deity as there are
as many unnecessary limitations of our freedoms -
that's how you move away from big ideas and narratives
of a Kant, with his chequers of analytic / synthetic
a priori / a posteriori and concern yourself with
knives (indefinite) and scissors (definite) articulation of
language - hell, we can go down the road much further
and say something about indirect and direct articles -
pronouns are the prime subscribers -
you wouldn't talk to a Jihadi directly as you'd talk about
him indirectly - i shared that curiosity with a local
stranger-mate in a park once walking his dog,
an ex-banker - those boom-bomb boys are being prescribed
the same thing that the Lufftwaffe pilots were prescribed
(pervitin) - but i doubt they got their hands on the pure
medical stuff, they're probably on amphetamines...
oh the R.A.F.? yeah, drunk like skunks.
but just imagine rewriting the Critique with a fortiori
and a infirmiori - disobeying "correct" definition,
as already mentioned the pronouns composed from
articles, as in condensed to indistinguishable parameters -
a fortiori - from something stronger            -
             a infirmiori - from something weaker -
(as already stated, the original definition of
  a fortiori was - from a / the stronger [thing]) -
so the articles disappear and couple themselves to the word
thing (word meaning, no grammatical classification is
really necessary, because if grammatically classified it would
be too obstructive) - but because of this lack of
grammatical classification of the word thing,
we are already associating the definitions via only the
indefinite pronoun - rather than a definite pronoun (i.e. nothing),
it would be pointless to write definitions using a definite
pronoun - well, up to a point, i suppose that
suggesting both a fortiori and a infirmiori to be defined
as: from nothing stronger and / or weaker we can create
a self-mechanistic-propeller, a way of self-overcoming that
in the end arrives as self-knowledge, obviously the
ultimate purpose - and this goes against all solipsistic despair,
as it also goes against making too many comparisons
with others, some who are weaker than us, and some who
are stronger than us - for the stronger will make light
of one set of propositions as the weaker will make light
of another set of propositions to suit their demands -
this can only be seen in light of Kantian-Darwinism,
survival of the fittest and what not -
Kant had in mind something simply said historically in
a condensed sphere of reality, Darwinism kinda did away
with historical realism, soon after the English Renaissance
after the second world war, Darwinism picked up again,
as a way to shut off the murk of the Holocaust -
Elvis did his bit, the Beatles too, but once the imagination
dried up, people decided they wanted to travel back
in time to 10,000 B.C. - and you think artistic expression
will end up a concept prog rock album, or a cute 3 minute
synthesizer song while M.T.V. turns into a 16 year old's
******* of a baby? i'm going keep the acronym, and instead
call it MORAL TELEVISION, or? how to buy a ******
or pull out early - but obviously i'd get a wisecrack comeback
from Juno - see a preacher man anywhere around here?
Kantian algebraic (big words, small people, Belgian waffles
too):                                                    ­              a. / s. after
                                           (event) x.
a. / s. prior
                                     what qualifies?
                                    - historical hindsight -
                                    - the current historical catalyst(s),
        THE BIG BANG... or as i like to call our current history,
an interchange on the words: BIG BANG BLACK HOLE...
BANG A ******* HOLE... get a BIG CLOCK...
******* HOLE... which is what it looks like at night...
two catalysts overall - and boy we're speeding
to Groundhog day - the biggest changes in history were
some celebrity's haircut - that's relative to
what happened when the Treaty of Versailles was signed;
BIG HOLE BLACK BANG (and that's thanks to dark matter) -
but to be honest, if i'm given only these two historical
vectors to work with... i'm not surprised so many
Islamic youths are disfranchised, choosing a third,
Jannah - it seems like a natural thinking process that
will never make it into popular media -
just thinking about it probably warms the heart,
obviously to an extremely violent end -
but this is gone way beyond the heliocentric and
geocentric arguments - because up there, where you
can see the earth where the hell is Copernican East
or Copernican West? it's nice to know that the earth
isn't flat... but that won't help you reaching the Panama
Canal from Portugal... will it?!
shåi Jul 2014
you took me
to a lovely garden
long ago,
and told me i was beautiful

you kissed my hair
just as the sun rose
the intensity of our lost love

every inch
every crevice of me
loved you
missed you.

you were my infinite stars
cast on the midnight terrain
you lit up the world
just for me

a sweet scent of lavender
permeated through the garden
you said
it was the thousands of lilacs
blooming for me

you kissed my hair
leaving behind
a sweet scent
to caress me

thanks for 1k views on reflection! i love you all and i love suggestions! :)
Indigo Dream Nov 2018
I fell in love with you once
you smelled of lavender and tasted like honey
you were so ******* contagious
I was not prepared for what was coming

The first time you opened yourself to me
was the first time I felt the joy of rain
you poured yourself  over me and I wanted more
you wanted me to explore and oh God did I promptly explore....

I would gladly dance with you over and over again
just so I could feel the warmth of
you lush lavender lips against my essence
you pushed yourself so deep inside of me

Your love questioned my sanity
you were the shade of madness
the night I Iost my mind was the night that it finally made sense...

I will never admit that I still love you...
Brianna Sep 2014
Tell me about your lavender eyes and your vanilla hair.
Tell me about you sandalwood smile and coal black stare.
How does the rain wash away your hatred for other so easily?
But the soft breeze in the summer fuels your fire?

Tell me about your wandering mind and your benevolent heart.
Tell me about your gypsy spirit and harnessed passion.
How does the ocean calm sadness so easily?
But the autumn smell makes you cry in the night?

Can you tell me why it's so easy to fall for you but so hard to make you stay?
Roberta Day Feb 2015
Warm laundry gives me the
fuzzies, makes my hands grasp
   majestic purple soaps
to cleanse away the ***** wails
compacted under fingernails
A selection of smell good things
lotions accompanied by fuzzy things
to rub away and radiate the aura
of calm, balance, and tranquility
Lavender is condusive to many
different uses, inhaling the graces
of herbal essence, soothing said coolings
inducing mood peelings of layers of grime
a skin liberative—figuratively speaking
Flowers of passion brew thoughts into actions
silent buds permeating scents
   so invigoratingly innocent
Claudia Tara Jan 2013
Can you feel you don't belong?
This setting feels so wrong,
flat like cardboard, a surreal past
your mind has left too fast,
your body left behind
with only empty shells to find.
Look at the lavender sky
with flames in its eyes
hear the ghosts and dark lies
They haunt you
They want you
you're gone
moved on.
The past is like a nightmare
that just wont let you go
the sinking sun that seeks you
Why? you don't know.
Can't they feel you don't belong?
but you've always been wrong
but you're already gone.
The mind flown to flee the leaving
the body here still not believing
The lavender sky still deceiving
as it turns to ash
Freedom's all I ask.
I'm not quite here and not quite gone
In this Lavender Limbo I don't belong.
sara Feb 2019
a beautiful color
a beautiful flower
a beautiful name

light and airy
peaceful and pastel
with a calming aura
and subtle hints of passion
i find lavender to be
a color to rival the rest

long and narrow
with tiny florets
a soothing fragrance
with the ability to heal
i find lavender to be
a flower to rival the rest

a beautiful girl
who i have yet to meet
a child that i will never
come to know
i find lavender to be
a name to rival the rest
Melanie Bishop Nov 2011
Lavender Twilight
lavender twilight
birds seeking their rest on high
musically sighing

soft murmurs so sweet
fill the evenings late hours
quiet now at rest

heads tucked under wings
little souls now full of peace
waiting for the dawn
Heartbroken Nov 2012
If your silky lavender eyes choose not to meet mine
That’s fine.
Fantasies live and then die.
But for you, I'll try.

A man whose eyes hold only yours,
Sweet, lavender gazing privately,
Other sight blinded by joviality.

Uncontrollable emotion,
A shotgun blast from dad,
Deters no serious man.

A princess,
A jewel,
An emerald,
A girl.

Not an object,
But a privilege.

A man not centered on ***,
Relationship not just in the bed,

Kisses on tangerine cheeks,
Through rain,
Foretelling lifelong love.

Soft skin swims,
I touch with permission,
We laugh and love,
None other.

Flawless beauty,
Like diamond,
Like velvet,
A wonderful image.
Thus you.

----Ardent Bowel ----
Kimi ZS Oct 2018
You bought the house with lavender
seeded in the front porch.
The scent flutters between the doorsill
and through the letterbox
like bills overdue and invoices outstanding. A postal aroma,
envelope glue smells like flowers to me.

I was never granted the privilege of rearranging flowers
You said, there was more to life than flora,
these emerald, sap dripping, saturated stems
Swelling petals fascinated under my untried eyes,
You said I must not even graze the things.

I longed for a taste of the forbidden flora.
Did buds taste like honey? Were they sour like you told me?
Would they poison these supple
and innocent lips, turn them pink to grey?
Could tastebuds kiss the perennial vines,
the posies, the spray of efflorescence
A taste of simple sweetness -

I remember when you ripped the front-porch-lavender.
The roots could not resist your claws.
You sweat to mutilate strained flowers,
You always work harder. Verdure spoiled.
Ravaged, ruptured, tanked soil.
Hot day
Café time
He’s there
So is Seth
She hasn’t been thinking too much on him
“Seth, you are the only one who makes my orders right!”
(The boy over hears)
The boy: You liked the one I made you last time…
“Oh yeah, what was it lavender?”
Seth: Was it lavender of love?
"Seth, Seth..." She says

*When will this boy confess?
What to do when you know someone has a crush on you?
Mike Hauser Apr 2014
i tagged a ride
up along side
the tail end of a lavender moonbeam

with nary a care
as it darts here and there
effortlessly moving on its nightly stream

i fashioned a kite
made from solar fire
stitched together with starlight dreams

in the design
of cloud #9
on the tail end of a lavender moonbeam
Liam C Calhoun May 2016
I could still smell lavender, hinted
winds from the east I’d once caressed.
And I could still smell that Lavender
When I look down to watch the ants
scurry. Once more, I could still smell
Lavender come empty and my life In
a bubble atop the world. And at last,
the Lavender’s gone, when trees root

Rooted, uprooted, rooted.
Mara Kennet Aug 2014
The lavender fields of my love
They are so charming
yet so distant.
To go into the fields,
To get lost there... with you
To kiss you, to stroke you
Two hearts
That are beating
So fast,
The lavender dreams
They are tender and soft.
To love you,
To meet the yellow sunrise with you.
say farewell to the sunsets,
not cling to the echoes,
celebrate the silence,
the lavender fields,
the purple obsession,
the violet dreams,
And love.
MacKenzie Warren Jun 2018
lavender resonates in the air
of the bedroom, we never shared
the sheets are clean, never dirtied
for our love was never spilled there
only tears from tired eyes
tears from silent goodbye's
after love was dead and gone
and i was alone at dawn
so, desperate to put my eyes to rest
i ripped the lavender from my chest
the lavender that grew
from every whispered i love you
i doused my pillows and sheets
with every last bit hopeful for sleep
it's sleep i never got
rather just melancholic rot
and now the smell of lavender makes me sick
as it reminds me of you
and the days and nights that ended too soon
WS Warner Mar 2012
Secretly bending glimpses,  
When pine and survey align
In tortuous accord –
Reflections of you,
Are not enough
Drew Barrie;
To insulate my heart
From the cleft between us.
Perennials, the color of
The smell of rain
And crayons
Return you to me,
Lend presence, vestiges,
The gift of you,
Fortify my resolve
To one day reunite.

Numbness and ache,
Lavish tears set
Against the
Unimpeachable light,
Held in the glint in your eyes
Unequivocally green,
Each blink evokes allure,
Found in
A blushing smile -
Little one,
I observe in quiet
Adoration, amid
Our segregation,
Ardor undiminished,
Prayers give permanence
Uttered in a pause
Breath drawn;
Ephemeral visions, alive,
Ballads and rhyme
Memories aflame, occupy
A sacred canopy,
Internal; profoundly
Never to erase.

Searching for treasure,
Collecting prized sand
And stone,
Your pockets, heavy
With plunder.

Somber tones fill
Gaps in our history,
Find new contrast,
Certain hues
Oscillating shades of gray
Stirring cues
Dearth of winter blue.
Trees bare, secluded,
Known in the bones,
This crisp boreal air —
Moisture absent,
Like a father's words
Your irreducible gaze,
In the
Opaque imagination.

Oddly arid season,
Aloof precipitation,
The will of the wind
Sonnets of euphony, leave me
Permit me to grieve,
Another year - gone.
Nervous Squirrels, sedentary
And quiet,
As if to mourn with me,
I miss my daughter.

The spring equinox,
Poised pavilion blended
Unfolds in bloom,
The approaching day
Of your birth.

Stunning you were,
Your prominent
Entry into creation,
Tiny noises,
Nestled and snug.
My effusive heart.
You are here,
Equipped with an
Absorbing mind
Designed, in a petite
Fashioned frame.

Emotions, elastic -
Diffuse and Compress,
In distance friction
Time and eternity
Extend to the periphery,
Absorbed into Zoe.
Grace and peace wash
Ashore, rinsing
Poetry pure;
Cleansing, with surprise
And vigor
Recall the loftiest
Of tokens.

I too
An esteemed rock,
Smooth and orbed,
Long thoughts,
My citadel made
Of three,
Uniquely ensconced
Inside -
Priceless gems,  
Sustain me.

Enclaves of privilege
Gratified each vacant
Until notes and
Words gather to form
Your story,
The world shifts,
Altered anew.
Simile to
Our reconciliation
Visceral and singular,
Exuberant teardrops
Flood, fall deeply
Approximating mercy,
Severe, sudden as
The April freshet.

In the lavender garden.

©2012 & 2016 W.S. Warner
October Oct 2013
words so clever could not hide this blundered heart
two halves in being when we are apart
these words so carefully crafted [turn and spill] become my art

they help me mend my

this canvas: *****, tattered

just paint me lavender
and find me there after
Ardent Bowel Nov 2012
If your silky lavender eyes choose not to meet mine
That’s fine.
Fantasies live and then die.
But for you, I'll try.

A man whose eyes hold only yours,
Sweet, lavender gazing privately,
Other sight blinded by joviality.

Uncontrollable emotion,
A shotgun blast from dad,
Deters no serious man.

A princess,
A jewel,
An emerald,
A girl.

Not an object,
But a privilege.

A man not centered on ***,
Relationship not just in the bed,

Kisses on tangerine cheeks,
Through rain,
Foretelling lifelong love.

Soft skin swims,
I touch with permission,
We laugh and love,
None other.

Flawless beauty,
Like diamond,
Like velvet,
A wonderful image.
Thus you.
© ardent bowel
BlueInkDitty Oct 2018
Lost in the tides of emotion
The silk of smiles carressed his chin
Leaving a soothing sensation
That happiness wasn't a sin

Will tenderness take him over ?
What does he feel, the Man of Lavender ?

Lost in the touch of other eyes
A wooden fear invades his lips
And no matter how hard he tries
Behind his hands, confidence slips

Will certainty take him over ?
What does he need, the Man of Lavender ?

Lost in the cold of people's mind
The freezing words pervade his head
What sort of silence can he find
Between the things he never said ?

Will any warmth take him over ?
What does he see, the Man of Lavender ?

Lost in words thrown way too much
That became stones way too heavy
For his true soul he'll always search
And he'll find it one day maybe

Will the feelings take him over ?
What will he be, the Man of Lavender ?
Irate Watcher Aug 2014
The most beautiful hour in L.A.
is 3 A.M., when,
of lavender
peep through
wooden blinds,
lulling restless minds
laid on Egyptian
Cotton candy
clouds amuse me.
Because as I close my eyes,
I realize,
that here,
there is no starry night
because this beautiful haze
is light pollution.

But pollutions' hue calms
a city mind.
Like sirens quell
eager ears,
And liquor tickles
tantalized tongues,
And words flow
from numb knuckles,
And insomnia wets
drying eyes,
am struck,
that this lavender haze
helps me see
that too much
is always what I need.
Ann Beaver Jul 2013
Lavender and metal
Will settle
Whatever is broken in me
I want to be
As stoic as a a cherry tree.
Take enough pills
To block out all the madness thrills.

But that was last paragraph
Accepting blades with a laugh
Lavender and metal
Sharpened to a fine gin edge
Throw out who you are, that's the pledge
I can never utter
Because of the shutter
She causes.

I lost count of the loses.
Lotus Jun 2012
Solitary motions
Radiat sole existence,
Through tumbling waves of wind
In purple fields of dry lavender,
A glowing garland.
Javaria Waseem Sep 2014
In the lavender field
holding a white rose
Placid visage
I was laying all alone.

My mascara had not ruined
And bun was also perfect
Some scent of strawberry was lingering
In the air, from my lipstick.

I was wearing the velvet dress
which I had saved for that day.
When everyone would be crying
And I'd be all gay.

So darling tell me again
When you see me on this bed.
Do I still look beautiful to you
even after I am dead?

In the lavender field
Holding a white rose
Puffy eyes
I was all alone.

I had not shaved in ages
And my tie was not perfect
I could still taste her lips
That regular strawberry lipstick,

I was wearing the black dress
Which I had worn that day
When we said our vows
And became one again.

The lavenders prepared her bed
As I laid her down to sleep
I wiped my tears and whispered,
"You always looked beautiful to me."

— The End —