WILMA’S SONG A child is born, and heaven sings And the song moves into our heart Through childhood days the song replays As it becomes a part Of who we are and how we live In our body and our spirit Sometimes so plain,sometimes in pain So deep we hardly hear it. Some people never share their song They mute it in their living; Their melodies, in minor keys Are never heard, or given To those who wait to hear the tune. They listen, but in vain For a harmony they cannot see, And a song that no one sang. It was not so with Wilma’s song She sang it loud and clear Her voice was raised in songs of praise Her fingers had no fear As they flew across her much loved guitar The harmonies rang out And chords were made as the strings she played And the song left never a doubt That the joy in her heart came from deep within And she wanted the world to know So she sang it loud and she sang out proud For as long as she could go. While so