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