I have laid lilies at your door, close your eyes and smell them; there is nothing pretentious about them.

There is no bill enclosed in the greeting card nor needle tucked between  the stems. It has been a gesture of love, simple things that grow
like moss on rocks and pearls in oysters

I have laid them gently, made a horticulturist of myself

I have worn big hats and ventured into my own fields
to snip the loviest of the bunch –and in my basket I always gather for two.

One for my kitchen table and the other one for you

I wish I was a rain drop,
There's never a same stop.
I would always be together,
There will always be a space to gather.

Gather near
Young and old
A story of Winter to be told
The Blue-Haired Monster smiled at me
Then stole my soul with wicked glee
He knows my name

Gather near
Boys and girls
The Blue-Haired Monster’s tangled curls
Warned me of the danger
Yet stuck in the remainder
It knows my name