Nolan...a gift for stories..  He still sings of her glories.. From the folds, a soul cast out...of a family for his doubt.

Gwen...a mom for us, who lost her own....she was 14, not nearly grown...she hurts for work she was forced to do...ignoring her own needs, she'll focus on you...

Brenden...is there a more caring man?  He watched over us as a mother hen...He could not keep us each from harm...no matter his love or old-soul charm...

Kelly...a shy girl; she was me, refected in all of my poetry...she watched the grief seize her world...cut off from herself, she spun and twirled...

Shannon...my heart my little sis...she bubbles with smiles I sorely miss...she gives away love and is so very cute...she is the reason I am no longer mute...

Jonny...he was so small...around his heart was built a wall...he speaks as one who is lifetimes old...inspiration moves through him body and soul...

Bob...he was just a babe...was not held long by arms that save...but still clear on how good it would feel...to be himself; to be free and "real"...

We are her seven, her work of art...each our own story, the music of Judith Anne's heart.