A Woman

She was a woman,
And a mother, too.
More precious than red-rubies,
All this...I knew.

Her children came forth,
Beautiful and strong.
They learned from their mother,
With the talented they belong.

She drew them close to her,
And made them her pleasure.
To enjoy...the fulness of their lives,
And made them...her treasure.

For she was...life of their life,
And love of their heart.
Her first thoughts were of them,
They were her inward part.

She was a woman,
Like unto many...the same.
God hallowed her part in creation,
O blessed be her holy name.


E.P. 1908 - 1989


Dedicated to Myrna Barnes Pickett. Happy Birthday today.