she lays in the coffin on a pillow of silk,
The rich, deep brown wood like a frame, the cream silk stitched inside adds a softness, a soft pillow completes the bed.

Dark brown long hair flows over the pillow and frames the face of this angel, her skin looks like porclin and white as snow,
Her lips and cheeks rosy and the long lashes lay forever now on her cheek, eyes closed and ready for her long sleep.

Hands closed over her chest as if in prayer, the smell of vanilla, the scent she always used floating around her in a soft cloud.

Beautiful and at rest, a picture of perfection never to grow older, like a rose cut when it is in full bloom and displayed for the finest art works, then captured for all time for the world to see and remember.

Our rose, our snow white, our sister, our angel.