Peggy's mother embarked on her final cruise on the day before New Years. She was 101 years old. The following sonnet which I wrote some years ago is dedicated to her and any friend or relative of any of you who has recently passed away.
I view life as a tapestry of gold
Hanging brilliant on a panelled wall,
Sparkling firebright in a regal hall.
Each shining thread a day, each fold
The intertwining of the new and old.
The mingling of the years, the seasons all
Blending, changing, summer, spring and fall.
Till winter marks the end, the story told.
Yet, when the tapestry itself shall fade,
The weight of long years darkening the room,
And in some cobwebbed corner gently laid
The vision woven on the ancient loom,
With one last gaze upon the life he made,
The weaver shall depart his silent tomb.....