A wealth of lilacs have I here,
Their mystic whispers stir my ear.
Their lovely fragrance fills my heart,
As memories their blooms impart.*
Lilacs are synonymous with home for me. My dad planted a row along the two sides and back of our yard to make a privacy hedge, and, this time every year, their fragrance was intoxicating. My bedroom was at the back of the house and, with my window open, I’d fall asleep every night with their sweet fragrance teasing my nose. It is more than forty years since I’ve lived in that wee house on Joy Drive, but, every whiff of Lilac transports me back again…
Tuesdays have become my favourite day of the week, ever since “discovering” the adorable Terri’s “The Flower Hour” group. Nothing makes me happier than to “gather” all the blossoms shared to make an imaginary bouquet. Plus, a great many that are shared are completely foreign to me which makes seeing and learning about them a real treat! Thank you, Terri, for keeping this prompt going, and to all the other Lens-Artists who so generously share their images!
Please take a moment to visit Terri’s post, have a smile at her oh-so-creative title, and admire both her great photographs and her very interesting narrative — you won’t be sorry you did, promise:
The Flower Hour #30: Camellia a Little Closer
’Til next time, y’all…
*Helen E. Maring, first stanza of her poem “Lilacs” — full text below.
Lilacs
A wealth of lilacs have I here,
Their mystic whispers stir my ear.
Their lovely fragrance fills my heart,
As memories their blooms impart.
When I was but a little child,
A lilac bush, untrimmed and wild,
Delighted me with joy untold,
Where shone the sun of purest gold,
I pulled the clustered lilac spray
And breathed their fragrance of the day.
One morning time a lilac hue
Slipped softly o’er the sea of blue.
It seemed that souls of lilacs gone
Had stolen back to rule the dawn.
Fair lilacs of my thousand dreams,
My heart amid you thrills and teems
With thoughts and hopes of life to be
That seeks to win the soul of me.
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