Jan Rae Johnson

I shall grow old perhaps, but not today,

Not while my hopes are young, my spirit strong,

My vision clear, because life has a way

Of smoothing out the wrinkles with a song.

I shall grow old, perhaps, but not today.

Not while my dreams remain a shining shield,

My faith a lance, and 'neath a sky of grey,

My colors wave upon the battlefield.

I shall grow old, perhaps, but not today,

Not while this pen can write upon a page,

And memories turn Winter into May,

Shall this stout heart be brought to terms by age?

I shall grow old, perhaps, but not today,

And scorning Time would enlist my tears,

I stand convinced there is a better way,

Of occupying all the coming years.

I shall grow old, perhaps, but not today,

In my own style and in my own sweet time,

No night so dark there does not fall a ray

Of light along the pathway that I climb,

Just say to me, when my last hour slips

Like one bright leaf to softly rest among

The others ... "Life was Summer to the heart

Of one who died believing she was young."

Grace E. Easley

Arrangements under the direction of Acacia Memorial Park & Funeral Home, Seattle, Washington.