The lilacs in my yard are in full bloom and the world smells so sweet. This deep violet lilac was planted by my Great-Grandmother a very long time ago and each year I wait patiently for it to announce that spring is finally here. It deserves a poem which I have not written but borrowed (and not in its entirety) from Shilu Matthai....a yellow butterfly doth linger a moment longer
savouring the delicate,
yet haunting scent.
to sit in a sun kissed lilac bower and think of you-
when will zephyr blow you my way?
like the lilacs, will you warm my heart on a sunless day?
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