There is a place in Heaven for Ellen; she left too soon,

For her little flower also, who didn’t get to bloom.

Flown to Heaven on gentle angelic wings,

While hearing serene & harmonic voices sing.

Sister, daughter, aunt, & mother- to-be she was loved by all,

Inhaled her last breath in August before the leaves could fall.

In all of the adjoining seaside towns up & down the Connecticut shoreline,

Everyone wondered who could have committed such a crime.

The man with whom Ellen had exchanged vows with on their wedding day,

Was the same who took her precious life away.

Another innocent woman, another ended birth,

Lives taken by a man, who didn’t know their worth.

In the end justice was prevailed,

Fifty to life, he soon died in his prison cell.

Ellen & her flower, which soon did bloom, found comfort in Jesus’ arm,

Where they know they’re loved and safe from harm.

For He will forever watch over baby and mother,

And the so many, many thousands others.

My mother Marie suffered the same fate as Ellen she departed too soon,

Before her six little flowers could fully bloom.

We ponder & wonder, we may think it was wrong,

But God had His reasons for calling them home.

Dedicated to Mrs. Ellen Sherman

Written for her neice & my friend, Mrs. Marni Cahill