When all the chiefs are counted

And all the plans are laid

The great among the spectators,

You’re Queen of the parade.


You’re surrounded by shallow noise,

Oblivious at last to every plea.


Motivated by love

Sacrificed to greed.

Moved by kindness

Served by need.

Lifted to beauty by feet of clay,

Unwittingly stamped in a special way

As one of God’s pure in heart.

So to live and so to depart

That the world never knew

The price you paid

For the face you presented

And the plans you laid.


Thus is the way of God’s own kind,

We pass unaware, and pay no mind.


June Poucher (July ‘15) adds,I wrote this poem years ago after my beloved sister, Virginia, died.”

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