Pretty as a picture,

even her picture turns

heads now that she’s gone.


Sweet and no nonsense,

her Southern sense of decorum

could rub me wrong.


Co’cola with milk and ice,

I never knew anyone but

her to drink it.


At any given gathering,

she’d ask for a song

and we’d sing it.


I wonder what she’s doing in heaven,

if her beauty is all restored.

If they don’t have music up in those clouds,

I imagine her rather bored…