Every day you are my smile,
Every day you are my tears;
And the air is tinged with rosemary,
For your love still warms my heart.
I think of you as Feverfew,
A shelter from the storm;
And you are something beautiful,
A crimson thread unbroken.

Your sweet scent lingers on me,
And my reaction is to purr
Every time I am caressed by
A memory of Feverfew.

I, a primrose, once mused
That I'd parish in my sorrow,
But you wouldn't like that, would you?
I've no other hand to hold.
And if I've one pleasant thought left it's
How joyous heaven must be,
For, I know that they will care for you,
The essence of Feverfew.

And I search, but cannot find you,
City lights won't daunt my hunt.
I see reflections in the puddles;
And broken shards in musty photos.
I hear ethereal footsteps
And the beat of angels' wings,
But are you ever among them,
With the warmth of Feverfew?

In my first recollection,
I heard a soothing lullaby;
A soft sound coming forth from your lips
Holding me to your heart and singing.
You've always kept me safe inside,
My protection from the storm.
Now, and for eternity,
You are my Feverfew.

But if by chance, I will fall melancholy,
Then keep me from the ledge.
And if, perhaps, I start to miss you,
Sing a song for me in Heaven.
And maybe, if I ever lose you,
Envelop me in your compassion.
I will never forget our time together,
My dearest, my Feverfew.