Society sends the young ones without fully saying why,
and having once been that young I wouldn’t even try,
there are times when go they must and it’s at those times then,
the few see all so the many never see, the very worst of men.
Leaving home and my true love then going overseas,
what always got me through it was your perfumed gift to me,
I read your lovely flowing letters written with such flair,
the writing with the perfumed ink, that you wrote to me with care.
At times I thought when sitting, on my grassy self made chair,
looking up to clear my eyes and lungs of the cordite in the air,
how we managed our humanity and what we used as our shield,
little was it mentioned amongst the others in the field.
There was a time when things came slow but I managed an epiphany,
the odor I smelled was merely the wind returning my smell to me,
three days without bathing or sleep were some hardships I could endure,
by holding your fragrance close and breathing words of lavender.
My shield was well concealed and worn closely to my chest,
and in those times of need, I would pull it from my vest,
it looked to some when using it, that I was in a prayers pose,
kneel'd and holding carefully the open envelope to my nose.
At mail call once our veteran sergeant didn't tease me with your letter,
giving me my mail from you silently as if he somehow, this time, knew better,
no fragrance now, the address with contents typed and bold,
I understand the reasons now but then it seemed so cold.
The years bring understanding and more perspective to my mind,
and I only wish to thank you, for being so very kind,
I will always remember fondly of your caring letters when,
you wrote to me of love and lavender ink flowed from your pen.