how is it
becoming –
a memory true
as the near perfect shade
of chestnut
of root
the filter of lilacs
lavender
moss
as a dream
now surrendered –
tendered by loss
as another I held you
another I wept –
long past the edges
writ for me here
in scripted
assurance –
promise and vine
paths given way
to the margins of time
a keeper unseasoned
by love
at its best
purpose made sweet
by forgiveness
confessed
let me to know
of a place
not so far
as the essence
of lilac –
a night in the stars
. . .
tornadoday 
You sparkle Bobbie ❤
…and as such, we are surely twin stars……….. Thank you, Jane. ❤
There is truth in presence of the earth in our senses, fragrance is perhaps the only assurance of it in life, a most enduring memory
Perhaps it serves the purpose of keeping…….. that we should keep breathing, taking in every moment – as much as we can – preserving it for the day when the flower no longer blooms………..when the garden is but a distant recollection…….