memories we have shared
and the soil that had walked
the grounds of our feet
as we give each one
our hearts, and a picture
falling leaves from
the earth of the wind
and warmth from the sun
for myself i wish to grow
like a plant. a new living
thing. with no issue that
we can say. when it comes
to health..
for feeling blue is no fun
and im sure you all
shall know

Robert Burns
(1759 – 1796)
Lilac fair

O were my love yon Lilac fair,
Wi' purple blossoms to the Spring,
And I, a bird to shelter there,
When wearied on my little wing!

How I wad mourn when it was torn
By Autumn wild, and Winter rude!
But I wad sing on wanton wing,
When youthfu' May its bloom renew'd.

O gin my love were yon red rose,
That grows upon the castle wa';
And I myself a drap o' dew,
Into her bonie breast to fa'!

O there, beyond expression blest,
I'd feast on beauty a' the night;
Seal'd on her silk-saft faulds to rest,
Till fley'd awa by Phoebus' light!

If only I had the talent to write poetry.