Which awaits at madams gate,
Such perfume dares to wonder in aimless praise,
Lilies sweet with vanilla scents,
Our eyes devour such pretty white sights,
Your bell flowers shimmer to no surprise,
I place you divine as the dreams along the grape vines,
Lily of the valley your nemeses,
Worthy with her pretty white dress too!
But it is your perfume that no one mourns,
Which will only love is you!
Snowdrops on their early languid visits,
Stayed those snow filled days,
Sad is when you’ve passed the lavender flowers,
Their anointed fragrant sachets displayed,
Oh, that suns request exchanged,
For the nights are for our moon,
It is us that will stay at our cottage play,
This garden on this day in May I dare say,
Our visit too brief as the butterflies breathe in life to short,
That city so far below in our thoughts,
Merely to sustain what matters we have sought,
Dear cottage garden life we will return and defend,
For the flowers which reply are there for that happy end.
