One day a lavender sheen appeared <br />Just across the worn out fence, <br />And thus she met the Lilac bush, <br />And she was then possessed, of it. <br /> <br />That fall, at it's earthly altar <br />She did her sacrifice; <br />The corpse of hare and linnet, <br />And the unlucky field mice. <br /> <br />Come spring, she reaped the harvest; <br />The blooms were heavy, strong: <br />The odor of fresh Lilacs <br />About the breeze, were blown. <br /> <br />Twelve years, she served the Lilac, <br />No matter what the weather, <br />And at it's gnarly feet were laid <br />Remains of bone and feather. <br /> <br />The twelfth year came, and she was ill, <br />She dragged herself, beneath it's leaves. <br />That spring was the most splendid, yet; <br />In brilliant blooms, the branches grieved. <br /> <br />The Lilac never bloomed again, <br />It shut it's face, for fear of sun, <br />And those, who’d thought to steal a bloom <br />In spring, found always there were none.<br /><br />Patti Masterman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lilac-tree/
