This poem was in my sister's funeral program:
"An old friend, my violin, Still lies within it's case,
And at times I take it out To play and reminisce.
The joy of life it brought to me As I picked up that precious bow,
And o'er the strings did play the songs, That were the best to know.
My problems seemed to dwindle, My thoughts went high above,
When the music flowed so gently, In tender tonelike love.
There's nothing else can take it's place, The music of this world,
To bring that special joy of life, To unloose and to unfurl.
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