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In dedication to

Gloria Cookson

“ Renaissance Lady”

     Oh yes, she could pick up a paint brush and produce a work of art suitable for “best in show”. And later, hold up material and know what to make with it.

   Drop in on her and within moments she’d prepare an English tea replete with scones, linen, and silver. You’d ask her” how?”

   The old professor said that Puccini would have fallen in love with her operatic voice- He could not get over her ability of range way above high C.

   And standing in her gardens in long skirts and picture hats she looked like a Renaissance painting, naming all of her flowers.

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   She could take your pulse and know what she was doing and should have taken some at the sight of her presence when she entered the room.

   She spent countless hours helping at her Church , the Theater and the Community, wherever help was needed- always with laughter that still rings in my ears- or the smile in my memory. That lady of charm could transform so quickly as one of the best comedy actresses I have had the pleasure to know.

   Her name was Gloria , one of my dearest friends, and I will never forget her. A special tribute to our beautiful friend - actress- singer- and great supporter of all of us here at our small town theater.Gloria taught and gave us so much to remember all of these years. Her beauty and memories will live forever .

   We will miss you and you will always have that special place in our hearts. From All of the Friends of The Marsh River Theater. We love you and thank you for your labor of love.

Elizabeth Ann Fafard                    

Producer and Director- Community Players

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Gloria

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Picture hats and garden gloves

Arms of flowers, filled with love

She sings the melodies from above

While gently a breeze kisses her hair

Long skirts move in the garden where

Spring will come long after the snow

And in the garden there will grow

The flowers she had filled with love

 

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In her picture hat and her garden gloves

Heart felt reminders of one so dear

Now a heavy heart and a broken tear

But I Know somehow she will be there

In spirit I’ll see her like a prayer

With her picture hat and her garden gloves

And her arms of flowers filled with love

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