A Poem by Joan Leotta

Lilies of the Valley

 

Lilies of the Valley–

small white bells

whose fragrance ascends

to God with puff and huff

of spring’s new breath.

They grew abundantly in

Grandma’s rock garden

among her hosta

on the shady side of her porch.

That very first spring day

when grandma brought

her glider out of winter storage

I would stand on the cushions,

climb over the iron

railing , carefully

lower myself and crouch among

those tiny nodding bells to

fill my lungs and soul with their

aroma of hope.

 

 

 

This poem first appeared in the Peacock Journal.

 

Joan Leotta has been playing with words on page and stage since childhood. She is a writer and story performer. Her poetry, short stories, and essays appear or are forthcoming in Gnarled Oak, the North Carolina Literary Review, the A-3 Review, Kai-Xin (award winner), Spelk Fiction, Hobart Literary Review, North Carolina Literary Review, Fourth River, Silver Birch, and Postcard Poems and Prose, among others. Her first chapbook, Languid Lusciousness with Lemon came out in 2017 from Finishing Line Press.When not hunched over a computer she is walking, shell hunting and daydreaming at the nearest beach.

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