Angels
Angels
are glimpsed
In
the sunlit dance
Of
leafy country lanes.
Felt
in the warmth of the sun
In
graveyards of quiet neglect
They
are light stepping
Light
tripping, ever free
Like
laughter, enticing, uplifting.
Realised
souls, dispelling gloom
From
nostalgia’s loom.
Angels
are pure
Intelligent
light.
Love
and truth crystallised
In
moments of pure perception.
They
are winged messengers
Lighting
the path to heaven.
Reaching
from heaven and heavenward.
They
are like the stars
Which
fill sky’s canopy
Heavenly
pointers of the way.
By
Gordon Smith
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