The smile never left your face....

beguiled by a sense of grace

you saw in everything,

though it was YOUR grace that sang

out from behind thick glasses.

it's phrasing shaped by lapses

of diction, disorderly- even so, you'd see Beauty

in all that you saw and held.

Your wealth that of a small child

who beholds life in all it's

depth,

color and splendor-gifts.....

How I remember you,

love never left your hue....

the gift your memory gave-

Oh, sweet, dear Lisa, say

you knew or now know how special you were,

thus are.

The vessel you ride inside my heart

is made golden by your smile . . .

copyright 2007 Rose Loya