by Lynda Allen
I begin each day with dessert.
I dip into the temptation of wisteria,
lured by the white blossoms falling from the crown as the bride’s veil,
or its sister’s purple cloud of petals that beckons to me, until I am adrift in honeyed sweetness.
Lovely lilac, I must admit, pauses my wandering feet, so luscious is her allure.
It’s no wonder the birds sing joyfully, flitting in and amongst the confections of spring.
Some, as the hummingbird, give in and drink deeply of their irresistible nectars.
Sweet intoxication! Alas, I must thirst and drink them in merely through scent,
that is until the beauty of honeysuckle springs forth
and I surrender to the taste of a tiny drop of heaven upon my tongue.