O were my love yon Lilac fair,
Wi' purple blossoms to the Spring,
And I, a bird to shelter there,
When wearied on my little wing!
How I wad mourn when it was torn
By Autumn wild, and Winter rude!
But I wad sing on wanton wing,
When youthfu' May its bloom renew'd
Robert Burns
Lilacs always remind me of Mom.
ReplyDeleteMe too. I remember Mrs Lysak and her beautiful bushes. She use to bring Mom bunches.
ReplyDeleteThe smell!
Lilacs always were one of my favorite flowers, now they remind me of when we buried Angle, our German shepherd dog, in our yard at that time of year. Last year we had no flowers on our bush, which was fine with me, this year some. I braved my sadness and brought some into our house. You may be interested to know that she died the 12th of May, our bush started to bloom around April 20th this year. Everything is so early.
ReplyDeleteLovely photo and the poem is just the right touch, Marti. Superb!
ReplyDelete