The Angel Over Me
Her head tilting
down, wings at rest, hands joined in prayer,
Watching over me,
in silence, she is always standing there.
Through the
darkest night, prevailing, her solemn vigil kept.
Her graven image,
a sad greeting, to those who pay respect.
With shoulders
rounded, an evocative tone, a poignant touch,
The sadness on
her face, and in her eyes, for some too much.
Our steadfast
bond, skilfully sculpted in stone, for all to see,
This divine
image, my sacred spirit, faithfully abides with me.
In the distance,
there’s a red rose bush, that awakens each year,
From the winters
bite, in awe of its blush, people stop and stare.
It is the reddest
crimson red, the colour of the greatest sacrifice,
As would be
found, growing free, within the garden of paradise.
Oh, if spring,
could do the same, bring back colour, to my face,
Raise my spirit,
from my long rest, to live in God’s, eternal grace.
And set my
Guardian Angel free, at liberty from her marble stone,
To break the
spell of death, beset upon, our rigid statures prone.
Alas, life is so
fragile, we have not the power, to trade or redeem,
There is no
silver lining, to this cloud, set inside my empty dream.
Dear angel, wrap
your wings, around my restless soul, I implore,
Shelter me with your love, and be my eternal comfort, evermore.
Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET (December 2023)
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