God saw you getting tired, 

And a cure was not to be; 

So He put His arms around you, 

And whispered, "Come to me".

With tearful eyes we watched you, 

And saw you fade away;

Although we loved you dearly, 

We could not make you stay.

A golden heart stopped beating, 

Your tender hands at rest, 

God took you home to prove to us, 

He only takes the best. 

​

Rest in peace, Marcia.