Let these memories of our dear one,
Memories as sweet as any spring flower filled breeze,
And sweeter still than the soft
symphonic strains that graced our sunny morn,
Our dear one, loved so well and
Loved by all, for she was truly kind
(not the false kindness seen so often),

Let these memories mingle with the stories friends tell,
of a character deep, deep as
the still dark waters, strong and
Alive with joy that sprang from within the soul,
A soul that spoke to us and to
itself in melancholy tones and
bright phrasings, for words were not her instrument,

Let these all say to all and
to all for all time:
She did well, obedient to her High Calling:
dear daughter.

SRB, 6-6-1999