You are lilac, and I am lemon,
Two good sisters, sent from heaven.
Worked so hard to earn our living,
Love between us, freely given.

In cloth that binds our blood by birth,
The leaves we share, on our green earth,
I’d spread the seeds and set them free—
A lilac bloom that’s just for me.

I merely sit, a frosted glow,
In the eyes of those who come and go.
I’m golden slices in sweetened tea,
An icing cake that’s split in three.

A mother to some, and a wife before,
And being your sister is the knock on the door—
Where woven our arms, where rested our feet,
Where by the fire, our stories hae meet.

And gales will blow, and laughs will howl,
Then eye to eye with the hour of the owl.
No matter the distance, no matter the frost,
Lilac and lemon’s roots have crossed.

Crossed as tight as fibres hae wove,
As close as evergreen is to the clove.
The veins of you, the veins of thee—
You, lilac, are the veins in me.

And the mind can’t see what the heart doth feel—
The linger of lilac in spaces so real.
Seeded in time, in love unbidden,
Just two good sisters, sent back to heaven.