In the garden where whispers softly fall, The gentle echoes of love's sacred call. A heart so tender, a spirit so bright, In the tapestry of life, she wove her light. Taken too swiftly like the fleeting breeze, Yet her warmth lingers in rustling leaves. Each stitch of crochet, each tender embrace, Reflects a soul that time cannot erase. Sixty-one years of a love profound, In every glance, her laughter resounds. Children and grandchildren were her delight, Her presence—a star in the quiet night. Now in nature’s choir, her music sings, In flowers bloomed and the joy it brings. Gone from our arms, yet never afar, In hearts that hold her—a guiding star.