[Verse 1]
In retirement, she dusts the quiet shelves alone,
A dusty cookbook hides a map in stone.
Its ink-worn lines glow softly in the steam,
Leading toward a garden born from dream.
[Chorus]
Taste the garden where flavors bloom in light,
Where dishes wake and colors drift in sight.
She follows scent and color through the gate,
And carries home a harvest born of fate.
[Verse 2]
Rows of herbs glow like lanterns in the mist,
Carrot moons and onion suns in a sunlit twist.
The pages stir to life, flavors weaving seams,
A kitchen world awakens, waking sleepy dreams.
[Chorus]
Taste the garden where flavors bloom in light,
Where dishes wake and colors drift in sight.
She follows scent and color through the gate,
And carries home a harvest born of fate.
[Bridge]
The map is living, patient, never done,
Turn the dawn with a spoon, let wonder run.
The dusty cookbook keeps watch over her path,
A quiet vow to wander, gather, and craft.
[Chorus]
Taste the garden where flavors bloom in light,
Where dishes wake and colors drift in sight.
She follows scent and color through the gate,
And carries home a harvest born of fate.
[Outro]
Back in the library, the map tucked in her cloak,
Her kitchen glows with stories that the steam awoke.
