I sowed them, in the womb, of fall
Where you slumber, in your placid bliss
In sweet September, with your fond recall
I buried, their tiny souls, with a kiss!

I dreaded the, winter’s ruthlessness
So tended them, with the warmth, of tears
And waited for, spring’s soft caress
To wake them up, from mortal fears!

The spring, did come, to my despair
Not a single bud, sprang up, from the soil
So was it care, love’s futile flair
Which failed, to bear, heart’s purple toil!

In a fit of rage, I raised the spade
To sever root, of a heartless hope
When I chanced upon, a bursting blade
Love’s letter, in faith’s envelope!

And then, they bloomed, like an inferno
To bid, summer’s sin, that last adieu
You’ll ever live on, for all I know
These Lavenders, Still Smell Of You!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra