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May is a month when everything is in bloom. Our local gardens are
full of wisteria, violets, daisies, and the first promise of lilacs.
During my girlhood, it was the custom to give May baskets filled with the first
blossoms of this glorious month. Many gardens held Spring festivals, a highlight
of which was the Maypole dance. I recall being one of many little girls dressed
in bright pastel dresses that matched the colors of ribbons strung from the
Maypole. Round and round we danced, as happy music played, until the pole was
wrapped in a pretty pattern. The dance ended, and it was time for a feast of
strawberry shortcake, followed by a few games of tag or rolling down the
grass-covered hill.
Yes, I know it was all terrifically pagan, but all we children knew was that the
world was full of sun and flowers. Certainly, our normal evening prayers were
dutifully recited, and we only thought to thank G-d for such a joyous day.
The Evening Primrose is a pretty little yellow flower which opens at sundown,
and perfumes happy dreams. It closes at dawn, when it is time for smiling eyes
to open and enjoy the other wonders of Spring.
Evening Primrose
She worships Lord Apollo from afar.
Veiling her face, and peering at his light
Through closed eyelids. Then Venus, evening star,
And patroness of those who long to plight
A troth appears. The maiden, sweet and shy,
But overcome by longing, girds her heart,
And shows herself. Too briefly, she will spy
The trail of his magnificence. A part
Of her timid soul flies after him, and
Perfumes the twilight hours with desire.
Bearing his train, she spreads o'er all the land,
A pale reflection of his golden fire.
All night, she dreams of him she loves, and then,
As dawn approaches, hides her smile again.
Copyright 2008 Eddy Robey |
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