White Rose by Walter Poe In the storm Stands the white rose tumultuous waves of destruction abound her Yet tall is the white rose strong in the face Of the sensed doom around her And she does not bow down Pure is the white rose In the compost earth growing eternal strength in the nights that so hurt I see not the white rose She is so far away But I long to protect her But only the words can I say So I send her my words And my poets heart To help her when there is hope to see her through Be Strong little flower Your heart will guide true And as long as you want I will always talk to you Our Dearest Jan, Long, long before the Internet and telephone came into being, people regularly became tried and tested friends through written communication. These modern day miracles make getting to know each other much easier, and we are thankful for their existence, for we never would have met you without them, Jan. Friendship is never tested during happy, gay times. It is the test of illness, stress and sadness which binds people together as true friends. We are so very greatful for all that you do and have become to us. You have shown true and very deep caring, compassion, humanity and love to those close to you, asking very little in return. Very few friends like you come along during the course of a whole lifetime, and we are so happy and fortunate that our paths crossed with yours. We look forward to the day when we will meet in person, where there will be big huggies all around. Our dear friend, it gives us the greatest pleasure to present you with you with this, your own little web site, this electronic white rose. You are always in our hearts and prayers, Beate and Johnny 3 June, 2001