In a garden where blossoms dance and play, Tricia, at seventy, spends her bright day. With a wink and a smile, her wisdom she sows, Where laughter like sunlight eternally flows. Among marigolds with whispers of mirth, She tickles the soil and delights in rebirth. Her jokes blossom like daisies in spring, Every petal a joy, every weed a new fling. With fingers in earth and stories that bloom, Her garden's a tapestry, erasing all gloom. A sister, a gardener, a spirit so spry, Her laughter the echo of clouds in the sky.