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'Where The Lilacs Grow'
 
We would meet each eve in Summer
by the spring where Lilacs grow
and spread a blanket in the generous shade
of Oak trees in the cove.

The cove was a place of magic,
or at least it seemed to be.
It was where we'd first made love
in the shade of the giant Oak trees.

All nature seemed to sigh!
The cove seemed quietly content
to shelter the youthful lovers
and embrace the time they spent.

And the brook sang to the lovers,
muted songs and wistful tunes!
The Lilacs blazed with glory
with flowers in full bloom.

But, as summer turned to fall,
and bright leaves fell away,
you packed your things to leave
from your summer's holiday.

Now I set and read your letters
in the quietness of the cove,
and pray that we'll meet next Summer
at the spring where the Lilacs grow.

By Ron Cole

© 2012 Ron Cole (All rights reserved)

 

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