A little girl wandered through the garden (her father's garden)
She had on her favorite patterned dress
Weeds and flowers pulled at her, to which she whispered words of pardon
This air was more breathable than during the nursery's recess

The wind blew through her hair
And the damp dew dripped on her legs (her healthy legs)
The sun shone on her shoulders bare
Flowers lined the path she tread of golds, blues, and reds

Her father's words not to pull the yellow flowers rung in her mind
He spoke of the lady who had planted them often and sweetly
He said she had a green thumb of some kind (another kind)
He would tell her stories of the lady at night to make her sleepy

And sometimes a tear would slip from his dark eyes
For his sake, she would pretend not to see
She noticed that he had a hard time with goodbyes
She knows his favorite in the garden is the lady's peach tree (the big tree)

As she walked the path she knew so well (so very well)
Her fingers touched the thin yellow petals
Then she bent down and her heart began to swell
As she looked at the lady's flowers surrounded with nettles

A small smile played at the corner of her mouth
She lifted her little head to smell the sweet scent (a lovely scent)
Words and memories arose from roots in the deep south
Thoughts of her father and his sorrowed tears came and went

Hot tears welled up in her eyes for the lady she never knew
Maybe it was her father's own sadness or the way he guarded her precious last fingerprint on earth
She saw the pain before her eyes in the bright flowers and all they had gone through (everything gone through)
The yellow was so colored and she was amazed at the feelings they birthed

And all at once she knew why her father warned her not to pick the plants
They were memories linked with feelings
So much she had learned in just one glance
She saw these plants-- her own father's healing (a long healing)