CURTAIN CALL

The concert now is done. So ends the song
That tells of mayhem's victim, murder's prey,
But also tells of life, and love so strong,
It conquers all that dares get in its way.

The love was born of hope, tempered by strife,
Nurtured by growing friendship, deep and true.
Along the often stormy path of life,
That love took root and slow but surely grew.

These melodies of love were not complete
Without their proper codas. So within
These pages are those measures bittersweet,
And now we know the way it should have been.

The stories boldly cast, with no pretext,
The last is reached, and who knows what is next?

                                                Ellen L. K.