The Darling Buds of May

Darling buds of May

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st,
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Sonnet 18-Shakespeare

I stood outside with a purple dog leash wrapped around my left wrist. I patiently waited for the dog to finish feasting on the fresh crop of green grass that I was sure he was going to pee on. My mind wandered back to last spring and how I had missed out on getting the chance to watch the barren trees bud and begin to sprout leaves.  It was also impossible for me to even see my favorite flower the lilac, bloom. I missed their radiant scent permeating the air around me.  I missed walking barefoot, branch cutters in hand and cutting off as many branches as my arms could hold. I missed stealing them from other people’s yards and placing them in vases all over my kitchen and living room. Oh how I missed my favorite season, the one of rebirth. 

While Eddie continued his inspection of the yard, I looked above my head at the branches and saw the darling buds. It wasnt May yet, but I was so thankful for the unseasonably warm weather we’d had and the early burgeoning of said buds. The green, brown, red and gray of them too. I reached up pulled the branch closer to my face and took in the scent of new and dirty life. 

To my right and  down the drive, there are lilac bushes. I won’t get to see them bloom again this summer, because of another ankle surgery that will leave me housebound. But at least I get to see the darling buds of May, only they are out in April. It seems that God is giving me back my favorite season only a little at a time. Maybe it’s His way of making sure I don’t take it for granted ever again. 

For now I will love the scent of spring and the buds of new life. I can’t say that this is the beginning of life for me or if it is the end. All I can say is that it is spring and I will rejoice in it. Dear Reader, go outside, and smell the scent of spring. Revel, in the light and life of newness. Revel, in this thing we call life. 

Amen. 

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Friday Fictioneers-If Music be the Food of Love, Play On

Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for the prompt this week. I’ve been sinking my creative teeth into Friday Fictioneers and finding that I love the taste. The practice in discipline has been quite a learning experience. I figure if I can tell a story in 100 words, imagine what I could do with 100 pages. Or 500 pages. I’m getting closer to that 500 pages. Everyday…

I want you all to know that I’m working through some sadness in my life. I’m trying to keep the smile on my face, but it’s difficult. I know that my stories have been tearjerkers as of late. Hopefully, now that I know that the results of my surgery came back negative, I can enjoy a great 2013. Hugs, love and kisses to you all. On with the story.

copyright-roger-cohen

If music be the food of love, play on.-Shakespeare

She reaches for the cello in the closet. Wishes he was here to rehearse their duet. She seats herself and begins to play their haunting, melancholy composition. Her eyes close and she feels the music flow within her. The sadness begins to disperse from her heart. She doesn’t hear him enter the room. He silently picks up the other cello. Sitting across from her, he sees her somber yet serene face. Places the instrument between his legs and strokes the bow upon the strings… She opens her eyes, gives him a wistful grin. They let the music extend their apologies.