Anne

Terrific seating at the eighteenth row
we sat down to enjoy the christmas show.
Among the many singers glows
the spirit of an English rose

A rose, our friend, but not of pinkish pale design:
As color-rich as crimson rubies shine
and such a scent! But getting close takes time and can be hard
our rose has thorns that against hazards ward.

From row eighteen we watch, we three
He is a poet and a scald, a spirit free.
She is a quiet lake with patience mild and mirth
And who am I?
I am the young one with the somewhat recent birth.

I value neither more and neither less
and I would trust them any day with any mess.
I love them all for different reasons one of which
is easy friendship, joy so rich.

He the big brother never had.
Helps out, encourages whoever's sad.
She keeps her cool when tempests rage
a soothing balm from someone rather young to be a sage.

But friendship is a living thing and love is too.
And where the path was thorny, I passed unscathed through.
I watch from splendid seating at the eighteenth row
I love her more for thorny paths and time, I know.


--------written after the Christmas concert 2004 ----