We grow dreams in our fields

A small spring-suspended
doll flew with us to England from
Croatia with a scented sack of
lavender in her tiny wooden hand

In purple-flowered frock
twinned with perfect straw hat –
traditionally clothed – she is as
pretty as a picture

Half a century has passed since
first I pressed Lime Bank
lavender into the palm of my
seven year old hand

And less than a week since
we adopted the small doll –
but olfactory sense is powerful
and in unexpected commixture


I am today in both Croatia and
my beloved childhood home


See also Lavender

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