The Lilac Tree Poem by Patti Masterman

One day a lavender sheen appeared
Just across the worn out fence,
And thus she met the Lilac bush,
And she was then possessed, of it.

That fall, at it's earthly altar
She did her sacrifice;
The corpse of hare and linnet,
And the unlucky field mice.

Come spring, she reaped the harvest;
The blooms were heavy, strong:
The odor of fresh Lilacs
About the breeze, were blown.

Twelve years, she served the Lilac,
No matter what the weather,
And at it's gnarly feet were laid
Remains of bone and feather.

The twelfth year came, and she was ill,
She dragged herself, beneath it's leaves.
That spring was the most splendid, yet;
In brilliant blooms, the branches grieved.

The Lilac never bloomed again,
It shut it's face, for fear of sun,
And those, who’d thought to steal a bloom
In spring, found always there were none.