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Antique Angels.
 
Snow white ghosts in sapphire skies
Regard the world with ruby eyes
That filter luminescent Prayers
Of long forgotten living years,
Somewhere up there, a rainbow dies
As down below, a mother cries
For only mothers feel the pain
That cuts them with its crystal rain.


Antique Angels wreathed in gold
Are often bought, yet never sold
Their prices vary through the years
Depending on life’s weight of cares,
Though sometimes they are given free
To lift the hearts of you or me
From far below up to the sky
For antique Angels never die.


Soul images of innocence
Leave such a sense of recompense
In payment as they take their leave
So that we do not often grieve,
They often leave a calling card
For times when life is very hard
Reminding you they live next door
Where they can give you love once more.


A wonderland of memories
Still drift upon our soul touched seas
Like life jackets of lifting love
That hold us like a precious glove,
When storms grow close they lift us clear
Sweet medicines that soothe life’s fear
And penetrate its deepest shade
For Antique Angels never fade…

By 33whitby4654

© 2019 33whitby4654 (All rights reserved)

 

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