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Phyllis has been our friend for more than 40 years. She hates cats. She is a realtor. She loves prosecco but calls it champagne. She is a realtor.

For over forty years, we've shared the sun,  
With Phyllis, whose tales have just begun.  
A steadfast friend, with a realtor's grace,  
Guiding homes with a welcoming embrace.  

She loathes the feline's stealthy sprawl,  
Yet in our hearts, she stands so tall.  
Prosecco in hand, she toasts "champagne,"  
Wearing her joy like a fine silk chain.  

A life well-lived, with laughter’s chord,  
In Phyllis, a treasure we’ve long adored.  
Through homes, through time, her story’s weaved—  
A friend in whom we've always believed.

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For over forty years, we've shared the sun, With Phyllis, whose tales have just begun. A steadfast friend, with a realtor's grace, Guiding homes with a welcoming embrace. She loathes the feline's stealthy sprawl, Yet in our hearts, she stands so tall. Prosecco in hand, she toasts "champagne," Wearing her joy like a fine silk chain. A life well-lived, with laughter’s chord, In Phyllis, a treasure we’ve long adored. Through homes, through time, her story’s weaved— A friend in whom we've always believed.