Tribute to Evelyn Ortner

the yin and yang, the pearly glow,

was so refined as not to show,

the gruff facade of big bad bear

so tempered and smoothed

by her grace and flair.

 

 

could one exclude that fabulous hair

which let us know that she was there

and like a beacon in the night

called out to us that all was right?

 

 

and only by her charm and wit

(and not a little bit of grit)

could this great show now raise its curtain,

declaim its’ lines, of this i’m certain

 

 

a darker more forbidding grace

would crush the spirit of this place

if not for Evelyn and her beau

who shared with us their constant glow

 

 

but let’s not be so darn poetical,

as our feet are planted in the mud,

and yet, it seems so damn heretical

to deny the truth of a springtime bud

 

 

that flowered 50 years and more

that weathered the storms, the winds and war

the petty, the cruel, and all the cons

and yet endure, still arm in arm

 

 

so shall it be and so remain

(regardless of this dim refrain)

that all within their radiant sphere

knew truth and love and friends were near.

 

 

at breakfast or lunch and surely at dinners,

in jammies or ascots or fabrikants’ clothes,

these two never placed, but always were winners,

from ship to shore from head to toe!

 

 

and even the general would surely announce

to all the world and brook no argument

that absent from his fair haired lass,

he would be at most, at best, a seargent.

 

 

but give him his due he demands no less,

this portly Ortner is out to redress

the crimes of low brow architects,

these new age vandals with no respect

 

 

for a Mr. Mckim or a Mr. White.

if the building is subtle, stood the test of time,

they’ll gut it and rut it and make it crass,

with trembling fountains and mountains of glass.

 

 

and so these two of noble stature

this dynamic duo, in classical rapture

amidst brownstone dust in old park slope

took up the banner, and gave us hope.

 

 

and now, how cruel is fate to toss

with no regard for this great loss,

upon the rocks our souls and hearts

our lovely muse, from us, departs.

 

 

and yet how surely we are still blessed

to have loved and known the very best

within us all, she showed a way

to curse the darkness and love the day

 

 

and thus dear Everett in this time

we mourn with you an age old crime

that gives and always takes away

the best, the blessed, for whom we pray.