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| Image courtesy of Danilo Rizzuti at FreeDigitalPhotos.net |
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| Image courtesy of ponsulak at FreeDigitalPhotos.net |
There is a story from somewhere in time
That tells us why, of all the newly born,
Babies communicate by pantomime
For many a moon beyond their natal morn --
Their mem'ries are so full of God, that's why
They mustn't speak or else they might reveal
Some heaven's secrets no angel may deny
Of ecstasy too much for us to feel!
You were so fresh from God, a fortnight's flight
From Him. Did she play with you awhile,
When you met her flying home that night?
And is she with us now, as you smile?
Our newest, dearest grandchild, Baby Bernice,
Could you share that secret? Share that Peace?
28 July 95
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