Lilly of the Valley
Truly nothing is better then sitting at the kitchen table and having a gentle breeze from an open window send perfume kisses.
Under the maple tree they grew. Beside the shaded bed of these little bells would I stand. Barefoot. Cool grass under my toes. In the bird house above. Busy Robin parents feeding the hungry brood. Sunlight dappling my arm. A moving abstract of random patterns forever changing. A little nose. Sun-kissed with freckles. A homemade summer dress. My hair in pigtails. Later. My first perfume purchase. So many years later they still grow.
