How heavenly is the scent
That greets me beyond my door.
One final blooming and
The lilacs are there no more.
I thank the Lord above
For that one special gift,
It only takes one blossom
To give my heart a lift.
This is God's last present
Before the leaves wither and die,
To tide us over the winter
When the frigid days go by.
I might not see another spring
Or smell another bloom,
So I'll treasure this last flower;
God's heirloom.
Melba Williams Wallace