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Lavender
In a lavender field in the land of the sun
I found that life tasted like honey.
Each festive cicada waved its rattle
and the midday wind danced the tarantella.
The flowers were harvested.
I was intoxicated
with joy and I was out of control.
In the blue lavender in the sun of Provence
I wanted to take a bath of love and youth.
All the seductive words I had not said
were formed in my heart in joyful twittering.
In this embalmed air I imagined a soul
I gave him a body made of embers and flames.
Warm and warm in his arms I believed in happiness
And his fiery look caressed my heart.
This blue field offered us a fragrant layer!
And I drank the sounds that came out of his mouth.
In this vaporously fuzzy enchanted site
Not being able to see it I felt it everywhere.
And I didn't suffer from this incoherence
Because of his love I grabbed the essence.
Under the influence of flowers, I made big projects
that gradually turned into regrets...
I had gleaned for him lavender spikes
passing by a calvary to God, I offered them as an offering.
Blanche Maynadier.
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