Cultivating a Friendship

When my friend Lydia was alive she made the world around her thrive, this garden grew so high and wide, you couldn't find the other side. she had red hair and azure eyes so like a flower in disguise perhaps she was a hybrid host a woman blooming as a ghost inhabiting this bit of land to cultivate her garden grand. her colored skirts of daffodils her collars ,lillies full of frills, I never noticed it before.............. what are these seeds upon her floor? perhaps her season came and went, bright annual whose time was spent. I'll gather all the fallen seeds, I'll plant them all and pull the weeds thatmust be why she brought me here, to help her grow another year. and in the springtime she'll arise and stretch her arms and kiss the skies and let our hearts like vines entwine she'll grow to be a friend of mine.