Lilac Poems

my overgrown lilac tree

my lilac tree did not know she was a bush
within ten years she flourished with a swoosh
she outgrew every tree except the oak giant
lilac tree is a hundred foot tall, shade very reliant.

Sweetest Lie

You may not believe me
But I know it so well
Every lilac tree
Has its own special smell
This I fail to describe
Its expressless to me
Each tree has its own type
Blooming easy and free
There's no equality shared
No familiar democracy
Lilacs fragrances spread
Fugitive meritocracy
Flattering you with the one
Sweetest lie
You are still fair and young
If you give it a try.

Quietude

Quiet are the hyacinths
Underneath the snows
Irises and violets
Even the red rose
Today are lying silent
Underneath the snows
Daffodils and lilacs
Even the red rose.

feelings toward my lilac

double blue lilac
lush doublet floret clusters
bravely elegant

visiting in May
unmistakable fragrance
bringing me such joy

Lilacs bloom

lilacs bloom into
an ambrosial siren
springtime seduction



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

ornate lilac tree

  ornate lilac tree
bathes on april rainshowers---

  cleansing pollen dust

lilac buds

lilac buds
burst on the scene
sense overwhelm



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Undergrowth with Two Figures - Van Gogh

a statement in their freedom of expression
the verdant undergrowth – 
a green carpet, indispersed with yellow, white and rose flowers –
leaning away from the regimental lines of the centre lane of poplars
the tree trunks, a whimsical hue of lilac
a profound blend of renewal, early love, and spiritual wisdom
in the overall aesthetics 
a contrast in colour

Lilac Recollections

Even now, I recall that memory;  
When we both sat in the dim hallway—  
Your eyes held hope, yet showed agony;  
I watched you fade into disarray.  

Like decades passed since we last did meet;  
Through nights we danced 'tween love and hate—  
Though gods proved ruthless, bitter yet

in lilac dreams

"I love the silent hour of night,/ For blissful dreams may then arise,
Revealing to my charmed sight / What may not bless my waking eyes." from first verse of Anne Brontë's "Night"

tarrying in lilac dreams
I flower in full sunlight
where I flirt with butterflies
and gleefully kiss tulips

when lilac dreams wilt away
I sojourn nearby a sea
caressed by

Lavender Flames

Blushed rose shaking hands with hues of cerulean,
bluish sighs in pinkish alibis,
softly whispering to the lilacs, gently
blowing, through the winds of amethyst,
a vision of majestic promises,
poetry on the lingering feelings of a light,
poured out on the soul who can see past yesterday,
into tomorrow’s plum, rose-tinted tendrils,
graceful, surrendering to the seas,
drifting out to believe, intimate waves,
soothing

A Hunger Unfed

Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart; I breathe at this hour the fragrance of the lilacs, the violets, and the roses, as at twenty years ago. - Victor Hugo

when lilacs blossom,
spring writes of moments
before the rain erases the night
melts the petals like a sacrifice,
gently coloring the light
in heady whispers

Fragile Lilac Petals

Clippings were cut to place in a crystal vase.
They grew in the sunny corner of the garden,
tiny petals reminding me of hand tatted lace.
I gave them water, blooms from my jardin.
Lilacs perfume the night wind when it blows
bringing back memories from deep in my heart.
Thoughts of when the golden moonlight glows 
and fragile lilac petals

Lilac Lagoon

Sprawling aspiration 
effervescent incandescence 
spreads psychic plasma
of primal spectrum 
painting passion 
on the silken sky
the configured
fascinated facsimile
of mental panorama
suffused with chromatic 
sublime sensitivity  
of exuberant ecstasy 
blooming in
seraphic color blast
of floral spring  

Parched pieces
draped by distress dust 
of cinnamon ground 
heart desiccates 
to the core 
auburn anguish
pervading passive
creeps craftily
in the wilted veins 
of

Lilac Smile

I really love my bluebird fair
The color of your golden hair
Your pretty eyes, translucent, blue
Just some things that make you you

The beauty present in your song
I could listen all day long
Caught up deep inside your voice
I want more, you are my choice

I'd hide inside your folded wings
I'd tell you lots of pretty things
And just to

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