The fragrance of the lilac bush outside my front door makes me swoon. I sat on the porch in the breezy afternoon shade and read about Italy.
Coincidentally, Frances Mayes is writing about spring in Tuscany. I cut a big branch full of blooms and brought them into the house.
It was Walt Whitman who wrote the poem 'When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom'd'. He wrote it as an elegy shortly after the assassination on April 14, 1865 of President Abraham Lincoln. I don't think I will be writing any poetry to the lilac, I will instead just enjoy its beauty.
Here are the opening lines of Whitman's poem. You can read the entire poem here. The star referred to is Venus, low in the sky in spring, but alludes to Lincoln.