I sit alone here in the night,

A full moon looking down at me.

The breeze that moves across my body has a welcome coolness,

Giving me goose-flesh to my toes.

My mind lingers on the edge of memories,

Long lived regrets and the like.

Unbidden a taste surfaces,

Breaking up the rising woe.

A taste of lavender honey and butter on warm bread,

Caresses my tongue and nose.

Melancholia is overturned with a deep sigh of content,

As my eyes brim with forgotten happiness.

I was content with a bed of lavender,

And soft bread to cradle a body so weary.

Drizzled on riches of the bees,

As my heart and belly grow full.

I remember the happiness that bore me on,

Over tides of deepest sorrow.

And now can rest easier,

In a memory of bread, butter, and Honeyed Lavender.

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Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.