Behold! You were told You are not at all old . . . Your works are manifold And more precious than gold You're steadfast, unflinching You don't blow hot and cold For many, many years Your fertile pen can hold Mightier than sword is your pen You have been bright and bold How your writings fit into Superb, outstanding mould! You work, work and work like heart Dear! how can you be old??? [N.B. Dedicated to Deborah Russell]
