I had always adored purple lilacs, and never could get enough,
As wildflowers bloom abundantly, although times may get rough.

They had graced a backyard garden, that I'd known in childhood,
On a tree lined street of birdsong, in a fine old neighborhood.

Now I had lilacs of my own, my life full of sights and scents.
Which delighted passersby, and had prompted countless comments.

My heart was in my gardening, which had come to be my passion,
As the rainbow's vivid vibrancy, is a true sunshine reaction!

Despite my busy social life, I loved lonely walks with nature,
Just as every red marching band, must have a proud drum major!

I was an ecologist, and my focus was upon terrestrial ecology,
Which was interesting and satisfying, as a vivid sunset study.

Everyone who knew me well, was aware of this lingering passion,
As the voguish adhere to styles, until they go out of fashion.

My job required being in nature a lot, and that was fine by me,
As it is fine by moonlight, to go glimmering on midnight sea!

One day as I drowsed on the porch, I had a purple lilac dream,
The kind you have on a Sunday afternoon, under clouds of cream.

Awaking in my old porch swing, my gaze fell upon violet lilacs,
Like yon sun is ever moving, 'til beauty stops him in his tracks!

Days later I visited a friend, and we were in her yard talking,
In the peacefulness of afternoon, when shadows begin stalking.

My friend offered iced tea and cakes, going inside to get them,
As the sunshine offers honeyed warmth, upon the slightest whim!

After my friend disappeared inside, I turned myself back around,
And was stunned to see a lilac bush, newly rooted in the ground!

It was huge purple and fragrant, and blossomed on my right side,
Like the first red rose of spring, blooms where winter has died.

In that moment I grew very still, at once I became quite hushed,
For as emerald buds crowd out spring-I knew I had been ambushed!

I heard my friend and turned, but when I had turned back again,
As a mist, the lilac was suddenly gone, as if it had never been.

I wondered secretly to myself, might it have been my imagination,
Like the wild beauty summer dreams up, amid the color sensations?

I said nothing of this strangeness, to my friend happily chatting,
As thunder says nothing to the rain, at dull windowpanes smacking!

But deep inside myself I wondered, like the dark night of mystery,
If aught like this magic of beauty, had happened in all of history?

On a lazy weekend day soon after, while I sat reading at the park,
As my gaze fell upon the fountain, again I gleaned nature's remark!

There in all its regal glory, arrayed in gorgeous dazzling purple,
Stood my old friend Lilac, and blooms from beauty's inner circle!

Bordering the fountain in a semi circle, were lilacs amongst others,
As sunshine, weak in one moment, gains an intensity which smothers.

There were many more such visits, from that wild one I knew so well,
As a love that's endured a century, with a magic only time could tell!

The lilac ambushes never stopped, and I'm glad they kept coming back,
For it's pleasant ever to be on guard, for an exotic beauty attack!