Queen of Elegance

QUEEN OF ELEGANCE

Tis not long ago

You left this plain

Tears of sorrow

Falling like rain

I recall a time

Long ago

When I was young

And I you did

First know

You were the essence

And spirit, of elegance

You taught me

How to dance

And how perchance

We grew together

Families united

Our spirits ignited

A stately queen you were

For high and low

Did you care

Against a life

Of strife, you faced

And did dare

To stand for justice

And against despair

You left this Earth

Not alone

And your loved ones

Awaited

As you made to

Your eternal home

Should one say

You are gone

I would say

That they are wrong

For you’ve changed

Many a soul

And each of us carry

A part of you

Wherever we go

Whatever we do

One day, not long now

In that other realm

I will join you

And maybe by chance

You will teach me again

How to dance

-Shiidon, February 2011

I have been trying to write this in some way for a couple of years now. It was a story, then a poem then a story and now a poem. This is about a dear soul that I knew from my younger days. This is a poem about Mrs. Lola Baker. Some background. The Baker family traveled to Evanston and performed a singular service. They in their professional capacity reupholstered the Bahá''í House of Worship in Wilmette. It was at the advice of a relative, Dr. Muhajer, that we had bought the house we lived in. The Baker family moved into our house which was three levels, each with their own kitchen etc. Because of this dear family I had the honor of meeting many prominent people. I remember a man named Greythorn that gave my brother and I the first and only ride in a Rolls Royce. I remember meeting Jesse Jackson's wife who came to dinner on more than one occasion. What happened that summer all of us, black and white, northern and southern, these were mere labels, became one family.

My father and Mr. Baker were good friends by this time and I remember making a movie with my brother and Freddy Jr. with our fathers staring as an odd couple fighting over the thermostat setting. It was a time when the President of the United States asked the American People to conserve energy. Mr. Baker had a major heart attack during this time. I remember the night I was going to Feast, on my fifteenth birthday, and we sat as a family, the Bakers and the Hawley's praying fervently for Mr. Bakers healing. he did recover and lived for many years after that. I remember with sadness when he finally left this world. I remember with shock and dismay when Fred Jr. was suddenly taken from us.

As my parents age I realize that more and more we are relying on our memories of those times and only able to console ourselves by hugging each other instead. Mrs. Baker left this world last year. She taught me how to waltz. It was a monumental and signal time in my life. She cared about me and my family without reserve. As I have said before, family are not always related by blood. To my dear brothers and my sisters Carla and Tahirih, this poem is for you.