Lilacs gently placed over her pink cheek,
Motionless with breath she does not take,
Asleep by the bank of the mellow creek,
For my flower girl does my heart feel ache.
For her slumber has separated us,
and only we meet in far, distant dreams,
where her cotton dress flows with each wind-gust,
and her skin smells of silk, peach-scented creams.
If ever in Heaven we reunite,
These lilacs I will tuck behind her ear,
and whisper my love to ease her sure fright,
in dulcet melodies just for my dear.
For the moment I lay by her still side,
waiting for God to remove this divide.