• Lilacs,
    • Momma had lilacs,
    • Blue and white,
    • Bushes and more bushes.
  • Lilacs,
    • Momma love lilacs,
    • Colors and perfume,
    • Filling the air and yard.
  • Lilacs,
    • I love lilacs,
    • Yep, just like Momma,
    • All colors and all wonderful perfume.
  • Lilacs,
    • I want lilacs,
    • Bushes here and bushes there,
    • Filling the air, yard, and house.
  • Lilacs,
    • Connecting Momma and I,
    • Each loving the beauty,
    • Then, now, and forever.

Originally written:   November 3, 1996

This poem was reflecting on a visit to the small village, Ahmeek in Upper Michigan, where I spent my formative years.  I saw our house on the hill.  Pine trees that my Mom and Dad planted as 2  foot, now stood 60 feet. The lilac bushes along the porch were 20 feet tall and over grown.  The house had not been kept up.  I think the curtains in the attic window were the ones my Mother put there.   It was sad to see.    It took me 5 years to have lilacs of my own, against the advice of the landscapers.  He called them weeds.  chuckle, chuckle.

One response to “Lilacs

  1. I’d fire that landscaper! Lilacs are my favorite. I have one that was a Mother’s Day gift from my son that has purple petals rimmed in white, and the blossoms are larger than the average. I love that lilac bush/tree. Must be a mom thing.

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