Precious Little Flowers
Words and Music by Brian Berlin
Copyright © 2024 Brian Berlin. All rights reserved.
I always pick her flowers from the field beside her building
Maybe five or six blue ones and some white ones to brighten up her room
I met her in the commons with her aide behind her wheelchair
I commandeered a seat and placed the tiny bunch flowers in her hand
The sunlight warmed her face as I listened to her mumble
I said you have many stories, you can tell me with your eyes and with your smile
I saw her eyes change and I believe she recognized me
And we chatted for an hour, though there are no words anymore for her to speak
I always pick her flowers from the field beside her building
Maybe five or six blue ones and some white ones to brighten up her room
Her aide later said she held the precious little flowers in her
Hand all through dinner and I held that precious picture in my mind