In the Green Garden

In the green garden there's a young lady She runs her slender fingers across the fresh lilies' The suns soft light licking tenderly at her alabaster skin Her flower dress flowing down her figure like the regal wings of a forest fairy And her eyes sparkle with unfettered thought, the colour of faraway seas Her bright blonde hair falls freely to her shoulders as she watches the suns homeward stroll begin In the green garden, there's a fair woman Her delicate fingers grasp a bible, a golden ring glinting from the suns glare The drawstrings of her apron dangle against her wicker chairs Waves of fertile purple lavender flirt with flanks of crimson petunias, glistening in the sun Written words swim in the waves of her blue eyes, absorbed with educated care The sun dreamily dips and disappears, heralding the days end In the green garden there's an old widow She watches the naked tree branches shift and shiver in the moons glow Her slightly shaking hands hold tight to her chest an embroidered pillow Beside her, a small girl absentmindedly plays with the fresh, frosted moss below Poking out from her thick woollen jacket, the frills of her flower dress are speckled with mud, as the wind blows Through her flowing blonde hair, her eyes the colour of waters yet unknown