She lives within me
Behind these spectacles she doth roam
Ne'er did I dream of that instance when
God would call her to our heavenly home.
Often, I shed sorrowful tears
A river must flow through my vein
Tonight, I am flooded by her spirit
My lips whisper her name.
When I think of her, time stands still
But, unlike a clock-our time is spent
It seems like a long lost story
And, like a story, our time doth end.
Forever, she will be carved in stone
But, her soul is well alive in Heaven
Our lives end etched in granite,
Forever, I am her son till the end.
Wanda (Gallup) Coffman