At sixty-five, she walks with light,
A steady flame, a bright beacon,
In robes of faith, with hands that bless,
She ministers with gentleness.
The church bell rings—her voice is near,
A voice that calms the deepest fear.
She speaks of hope, of love made whole,
Each word a balm, each prayer a soul.
With silver strands like threads of dawn,
And wisdom from the years she's drawn,
She stands not tall by height alone—
But by the seeds of truth she's sown.
She knows the pain behind the praise,
She's seen life's dark and golden days.
Yet through it all, she chose to stay,
To guide the lost, to teach, to pray.
Oh Lora, friend so tried and true,
The church is stronger still with you.
A shepherd kind, with heart so wide,
With Christ forever at your side.
Copyright protected for LORA BROWN
By Scubie Albie,2025
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem