She became a florist after retirement.
Once she stopped going out as often,
her greens, her garden, and her flowers
became her next customers.
She used to be a hairdresser.
Her meticulous hands
gently drew out the radiance in people—
but that alone wasn’t it.
It was her soul that touched hearts.
It must’ve been magic,
how the same hands that once trimmed hair
could bring out the best
in plants and flowers too.
She had a beautiful garden.
She poured her heart and soul into it—
well, not all of it.
Some she gave to those around her,
and much to those she cherished.
Her garden is beautiful.
Her garden was beautiful.
Have I said it already?
She truly had a beautiful garden
until she could no longer tend to it.
But still, she tried.
She tried hard.
She enlisted the help of tiny elves—
help that came in all forms.
And her once-beautiful garden
became something more:
a sanctuary.
A place that could only be called
an opus.
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