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Same story, in rhyme, titled: Jenny Butler
Visiting Aunt Juanita,
in Pocahontas nursing home,
we met her roommate,
Jennie Butler.
Jenny loved to tell jokes,
and laughed often.
She sang gospel songs,
her voice filling the air
with sweetness,
as her face reflected joy.
No one would guess
she lay, day after day,
a prisoner to stiffness and pain.
Her hands and feet
were gnarled, swollen,
and burning with sting.
Today, Jennie is free.
In heavenly array,
and joyous abandon
she's singing still,
in celestial tone,
our welcome home.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
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