Doña was your title
Juanita was your name
To me, you were just Lola
A woman whose gentle face
Betrayed the soul of an angel
Whose presence was the glue
Of our humble family
God’s Divine grace shone
Always in your eyes,
And the strength of that Divine Grace
Bridged continents and hemispheres.
The week you were to pass,
You came to me in dreams,
In phantoms of my mind,
To touch my face one last time
In the hopes
That I would keep that tenderness
The seed that you planted in my soul,
Your grace manifest
Will continue to grow
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