Lady Grey

rests beneath a tree,

leaves brewing

scented breeze

coriander swirls coffee,

roasted chickory,

 

hands blending,

they speak through perfume,

merge citrus

and sea salt

white blooms, spice, olibanum

tempering fruit,

 

ripe blackberries brush

childhood memories

on mint julip lips,

stems crushed to release fresh tales;

auras of was and May bees,

 

aromas too sweet

would falsify impressions,

each a proud woman,

 

this portrait

in bosom unknown

becoming

ancestry,

petals with beloved aunts

sing old tunes re-sown.

 

If you liked this poem and you have the time you might like:

The Scent of a Story (thoughts)

To Sweeten Bitter (poem & art)

Bitter and Sweet (poem & art)

Mother Moon (art)