In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle—and from this bush in the dooryard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
-Walt Whitman
The scent of Spring is in the air: a mixture of newly turned musty soil combined with a subtle whiff of lilacs.
Should we bottle it?
Or just bring some inside to freshen up the room?
The Lovers in the Lilacs
(after the painting by Marc Chagall)
In this bower we will make our nest.
We will step lightly among the blossoms,
disturbing nothing;
Our talk will be of lilacs
and the warm April sun;
Our touch will be the caresses of ripe fruit;
And our song will lift
like prayers
on the scented air.
-Robert Bode
July, 2015
Marrowstone Island
CPW
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