(To Snow Longley Housh)
While piloting her silver yacht of song
To reach, at last, a quiet blue lagoon,
She bids the weary desert-hearts be strong
To find the cool oasis, flower-strewn.
The sails of sunset now serenely hold
The beauty she but glimpsed at dawn or noon.
Her singing spirit never will grow old.
Refreshed at wisdom's fount, she gives to youth
The wine of inspiration, and the gold
Minted from love and tempered fine with ruth.
A star, her compass guiding to her goal,
Her heart a chalice lifted high for truth,
Her light of faith becomes an aureole
Revealing God's own imprint on her soul.
