Angelica, root of the earth’s deep song,
With calming whispers, soft and long.
In fields it grows, in tales it’s told,
An “oil of angels,” warm and bold.

A touch to ease the breathing tight,
A fragrant mist for restful night.
For wearied minds, its scent will bear
A quiet peace upon the air.

In caring hands, it finds the way
To soothe the skin at close of day.
Yet in the sun, it guards with grace,
A gentle touch, a lighter trace.

O ancient root, of soil and dew,
A healer’s friend, forever true.
Angelica’s gift, both pure and sure,
A balm of peace, a scent to cure.