Thursday, April 5, 2012

Angel (Poetry Month 2012: Day 5)

She appears softly
a blonde halo curling from her head
and with a smile lovely as wings.
She is here
a miracle standing in the doorway
my angel in flannel pajamas.

1 comment:

  1. Nightsong (Paula)

    You held me to your
    bruised self.
    I aching with a want
    that held, its
    own fears.
    We spoke words that were
    small charms against
    bright faith flung
    at reality.
    I lay half scared
    held strong
    in this dark our host
    till touch breathed
    its nightsong
    and the words laid
    their ghosts.