Lilacs are poetry

their color  music,

their sent the story of Spring’s

lacy gardens with wide lawns for

cart-wheeling, swinging, and racing

a waggle tailed white and brown dog

for playing tag with freckled-faced cousins.

The sweet dappled shade

under the lilac bush is the Home

we dive for to be the first

to announce to the world

I’m Safe!

© Carol Carlisle 2012

It’s Poetry Month!

11 thoughts

  1. Lilacs are my favorite flower, and I haven’t seen them in twenty years. When I became an adult, I moved south from the midwest and they don’t grow here. 😦 Thank you for the lovely poem about them.


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