In the quiet hush of dawn's embrace,
Where spring's soft fingers weave through trees,
The world unfurls a tender grace,
In fields of lavender and gentle breeze.
Beneath a sky of hopeful blue,
Where blossoms blush with fragrant tears,
A symphony of love rings true,
Resonating through the fleeting years.
The lavender's serene parade
Unfolds its dreams in violet hues,
Each petal kissed by sunlight's shade,
A canvas where affection brews.
In gardens touched by morning's glow,
Where lavender and love entwine,
The echoes of a heart's tableau
Are written in each fleeting line.
Oh, how this fragrant breeze does weave,
A tale of longing, deep and pure,
Of whispered vows and hearts that grieve,
In beauty's form, so sweet and sure.
For love, like spring, renews the soul,
It blooms with every tender sigh,
In lavender's quiet, gentle role,
It holds the heart, it lifts the sky.
Yet in this beauty lies a mourn,
A softness draped in bittersweet,
Where memories of love are born,
In every scent, in every beat.
When night descends and shadows play,
The lavender will softly fade,
But love remains in sweet array,
In every twilight serenade.
So when you wander through the glade,
And breathe the springtime's lilac kiss,
Recall the love that never swayed,
In fields of lavender, find your bliss.
For in this fragrant, fleeting hour,
In love and spring and violet bloom,
We touch eternity's soft power,
And linger in the lavender's room.
