In Memoriam: Karen Weinberg
She made me laugh – let’s start with that
(The time she wore a witches’ hat)
Her cheeky banter full of fun
And, on my word, she loved to pun
Enthralled by British comedies
From Eddie Izzard to John Cleese
Held captive by Austen’s tease
(Young Darcy jellified her knees)
And then there was that Stephen Fry
(She’d have proposed, but she was shy)
True, he is gay, but love is blind
And she was smitten with his mind
She lived for art and loved to sing
Such colours in her offering
The shadow of Matopos stones
The glow of rusty vineyard tones
Baryshnikov upon the wall
Unfettered horses in the hall
She saw the beauty, heard its tune
She caught the light, lassoed the moon
King Singers’ a capella hums
Dusty stomps of tribal drums
Her world aloft on violin strains
Juluka flowing in her veins
Soprano voices in the air
Mama Mia’s songs of cheer
The concert halls, the silver screen
She soared the heights, touched the dream
Her head was swirled with maths and stars
Her memories stitched with faded scars
She knew the dark, yet channelled light
She felt earthbound, yet showed us flight
She long ago left creed behind
And saw all faiths as intertwined
Her wisdom caught the ebb and flow
Of New Age waves and Oprah’s show
So deeply loved, and yet alone
She found her peace, her bay view home
Her friends and loved ones scattered wide
She was the rock, we were the tide
Just like a snowflake’s crystal maze
Her beauty sparkled through our days
And just as ice must melt and flow
Back to the source – we must let go
Our daughter, teacher, friend and sister
How we loved her, how we miss her
We will not let her vision fade
Now she is gone – I wish she’d stayed
— Wayne Visser