A garden of marigolds....orange, yellow and rust, Bright, soft and rich, touched with golden dust. Quiet and regal, sun kissed and fair, Basil -citrus fragrance that mellows the moist air. A thousand smiling marigolds, a thousand smiling suns, Sweet nectar, ambrosia, for natures gentle ones.
Woven into garlands, yellow with tips of red, Woven into memories with many a words unsaid.
Love's hopes of an Indian bride, clad with marigold, With dreams wrought 'n promises, her heart dearly holds. Tearful farewells to soldiers, who traverse through destiny's doors. A garland weaved with love for those, from across the seven shores. And when the body is but a thought, as life grays and olds Wrapped in a hearse of love, their love, with weeping marigolds. An offering so humble, yet flowers a Goddess wears, Auguring celebrations, with a soul's heartfelt prayers. Orange, yellow, rust..to love, to pray, to mourn, Golden, sun kissed, blessed.. marigolds that life adorns.
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