The White Lilacs, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

White LilacsLe lilas blanc, Jean-François Portaels (n.d.)

The White Lilacs

The lushness of the early morning air
Breathing, filling lungs with scent of lilac
Into the shadowed lilac grove I stare
A vision of perfect beauty stares back

In my chest beats a golden tympani
As the sun seeks out her flawless beauty
With a smile a lilac she offers me
So close to her I turn into putty

Reaching out to gently touch her soft face
Studying the wetness of perfect lips
With a hungry eagle’s eyes I slowly trace
Her lips of dew I do take in small sips

She now accepts me in total embrace
There isn’t desire to leave our loving place

 

Published by

bobsieczkiewicz

Husband, Father, Grandfather, Lover of all beautiful things. I love to read and write poetry. My favorite hangouts are libraries and museums and yet I love being outdoors. I am a dreamer of things that could be.

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