It's Her Lavender

It's a flower, there is a clue,
Purple, pink, violet and even blue,
It may seem simple, even plain,
But lavender is its name,

The history goes down my family tree,
Flowers in which there were three,
The first, glistering of the most silky silver soil
In which there was never any toil,
The second, the most mysterious,
Meaningful and mellow,
The roots would soon be very shallow,
The last didn't live for long,
It was creative but in the wrong,
They were just flowers,
Weren't special but seemed as though,
They had powers, lilac, pansy and lavender of all kinds,
Pink, blue, violet and many other finds,

My great-nan wrote this for her friends,
The first, beautiful, the second, mysterious,
But the third didn't live for long,
Her life came to many ends. Her name?
Lavender.