Suzanne rides tall in the saddle,
Bronze and copper,
       Book of Kells,
            and lapidary.
The wind is her challenge and her friend.
She’s so Romantic that it hurts.

Those Mountains that she had to leave,
Still were her Grandma’s wit, fixed like a fox
In Highlands' gloaming. Paths to light were of no doubt.
She knew Brasil before its voices moved her.

Books opened into the world.
"Beautiful music, beautiful songs."
A dancing woman and a dancing man.
Let her share them with you as they have shared.
Castanets--Berimbau--flaring coils, folds and leaves, ...
Strange how long adventures tempted.
Strange how through care depths of love grow.
Strange almost to Celtic laughter how awful news can be!
What this poor body and fierce will must bear!
Courage! Courage! Suzanne offering Saturdays
Journeys that had found her
And Sundays with Mike her parties,
Laid out for pleasure like her walls
Of reds and greens and teas and oranges—
Tropicalia and Caravaggio—
Courage and compassion
The arrows in Suzanne Corley married.

           July 22, 2021
           First version April 27, 2021