Where did it go, that sweet soft month of May, I want to hold on to the colors and the smells forever . . . .
MAY DAY MORNING
Oh lets leave a basket of flowers today
For the little old lady who lives down our way
Well heap it with violets white and blue
With Jack-in-the-Pulpit and wildflower too
We’ll make it of paper and line it with ferns
Then hide and we’ll watch her surprise when
And opens her door and looks out to see
Who in the world it could possible be
Virginia Scott Mike
Have you ever made a May Basket for someone else, or received one yourself? If so, you wont forget the experience!
The happy children know it’s spring;
Then forth their little baskets bring,
And go abroad a-flowering
By twos and threes from home they stray,
And in the meadows green they play;
They choose a little Queen of May,
And crown her curls with blossoms gay.
And when at dusk they straggle home
With flower-laden arms they come,
With roses on the cheeks abloom,
While in their hearts bird carols hum.
And when asleep they lie at night,
Their little springtime dreams are bright,
With birds and buds and joy and light,
And all the wealth of green delight.
And this is why the tough of spring,
When blossoms blow and sweet birds sing,
Such very happiness doth bring,
It sets their heart a-caroling.
From Fresh Posies by Abbie-Farwell Brown
Houghton and Mifflin Co 1908
A time to gather violets and sweet woodruff to make a May wine bowl
But nowhere is May more fragrantly and artistically celebrated than in France, especially Paris,
where the Muguet (Lily of the Valley) appears
everywhere from May Day and on . . . .
In the Candy Shops
the flower shops
and in my favorite tea room
Its true, the greens will never be more luminous and fresh, the flowers more fragrant,
and the morning dew so jewel-like.
Spring gives way to summer,
and May becomes a memory . . . .until next year.