A Sprig with its Flower

In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash’d palings, Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green, with many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love, With every leaf a miracle – and from this bush in the dooryard, With delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green, A sprig with its flower I break. – Walt Whitman
Watercolour Lilacs | ©Nissa Gadbois
I have always loved lilacs.  I lament that they don’t last longer.  But perhaps if they did, they wouldn’t be so precious. 

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