She would pluck those petals
from the flowers in the meadows
taking each and every one
till the right answer had been won.
She waited through the night
till the first shard of light
bound the blooms to open
earthly decor she put her hope in.
Talk to flowers all you want, dear
tell me, if you can, what you hear
he'll be walking, won't be waiting
you'll be plucking, here remaining.