Tiptoeing on rainbows, cackling finally at the smog below, an aura of pure joy walks to where shelves never run short of space In a library with the sunset for a ceiling, dressed up in pink and lavender Llamas will lounge with her in Poet's Hall Mr. Darcy will serve tea, and Marilyn will sing She will gasp in awe and wonder as all the greats file in, one by one, to greet and gather round her Lines of verse once heard without their true voice, will now be read; by Emily and Anne, Sylvia, and Robert Eternity is now, and is an endless sonnet. -- Ammanda (Amy Dawn Tolnay)