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Your eyes sparkled. And there was playfulness
In your smile that veiled your age,
Softening the hard years with its warm caress.

And oh, that accent—that Louisiana drawl—
It dripped like summer-morning dew
In fields long in grass before harvest fall.

You reached out when you spoke, with grace,
To touch my arm, ever so sure that yours
And mine would meet in close embrace.

It was your southern elegance that claimed
Me as your own, that swept me away
Once and for always, my heart inflamed.

Just as your Dearest Lord, so long ago,
With His love captivated all of your heart,
Did all of His blessings on you bestow,

Just as He kept close to you in every way
During your oh so many years,
Through dark night and through long day,

Just as He reaches out, even now,
To hold you close forever more
And so fulfil to you His sacred vow.

—David B. Wester