Fly Away Home

XXVI - Lavender Line

home is hung up on the washing line again

bees interweave in slalom of lavender laced edges of gardens

lulling to sleep

lavender drowsy faces

in late sunshine

(that is home,

            really really, that is home)

amongst the lavender

and the green white butterflies

fluttering, buttering flutter by me

little beauty, and doze

on a lavender thread

sewn into the pink gravel

and embroidered onto the grass

with a daisy chain to link

on a hippy head, that's quite fine

it's home, always home

pocket of lavender in the cushion

crushed in the fist

and pressed to the nose

inhale and doze

it's lavender

such sweet lavender

drowsy dreamy lavender

in an eternal summer day

why bother with anything else?

lavender soupline blows in the breeze

of washing lines

  -and I love them

       with their odd socks

         and white linens

        and ducking, running, laughing

                tickling and blind-

grass stain

whoops

-ie

daisy

no matter: it's home, it's home

(5th March 2014)