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Lilacs by Helen Shanley

Lilacs by Helen Shanley

remember that lilacs enfolded the night
in a soft June kiss,
a never-never land
of love in a candy store.
They floated like clouds of stingless bees
in mesmeric rivers of honey
around your tender face.
There was a sound like water falling
or clusters of little bells
or birds about to sing.

Sometimes I touch that lilac night
when your grave opens,
when dreams take us deep, deep
to love without time, without loss.

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