[Meaning: nostalgic]
The wooden frame, dull and rusty, protected a small memory inside it,
Wrinkles dusting his face, thin lips smiling conveying a fighting spirit,
His eyes carry silent syllables spelling out a conscious prayer,
His kind words molded her: unshaped clay to a fine vase, did she give him thanks in answer,
Vibrant flowers extending towards the sky, the garden his haven where he spent his energy,
She toils in his kingdom, Mother Nature's raw smell wafts around her humming a brief elegy,
Jeans smattered with soil, she watches over this heirloom which has prospered for generations,
Her calloused fingers nurturing the land; in his name she works in admiration,
Transported back in the field, she laid down, grass tickling her feet,
Balmy air brushing her face, red smearing the edge of her vision, the sight was bittersweet,
Her heart has tiny purple hyacinths, clogging her arteries making it hard to breathe,
Slowly they turned into minty majorams, a case where her sorrow could be sheathed