— Evelyn Commerse
What shall we fashion of hours
That tiptoe thru day to their death…
Prayers for the palms of the living?
Scrolls for the souls shorn of breath?
Brief memory fires to rekindle
To warm our life’s blood when old?
Stories wherein truths lie melting
Poems to set their mold?
Clasped close in the darkness together
Love, let us fashion a shrine
Where gifts from the temple of your heart
Meet gifts from the temple of mine.
To be strung as one giant world necklace
Long, long as the life of our years
Enhancing the bosom of mankind —
Immortal, loves laughter and tears.