Lilac Retreat

Before the days of ‘lectric lights
Porcelain baths, steam heat,
We used to own a little house:
‘Twas called Lilac Retreat.
‘Twas painted white and scrubbed so clean
And grass grew round the door;
Oftimes a tiny tuft of green
Would push up thru’ the floor.
Two lilac bushes grew beside
This little house so white.
Their voices blended into one
Soft murmur in the night.
To-day we find no little paths
Pressed down by many feet
For none can boast their garden holds
A white lilac retreat.

– Circa 1950

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