My Angel

In warm quilt thy shadow lies,

Surrounded by air that bears,

Frozen pleasures,

The Secret treasures.

Water drips for ceilings tall,

To harden tips which from high fall,

Fine dusting blankets fall,

And thy shadow ceases to exist at all.

Wet body lay about thee,

But wrapped up by a Christmas tree,

Near flames ablazing did I reserve,

Never to be seen,

Never to be heard.

But there I sat in the presence,

Of an angel that walks about.

Durin' the revival did I see,

Such a maiden in the sight of me.

Up I stood on legs all healed,

Towards her I made,

But she....

She was ware of me,

And stole away into the middle of the night,

I trudged through the wind,

I fought off the bite,

All whilst trying to see,

In the middle of the night!

When thy figure appears in front of thee,

There I made to,

And when frostbitten hand reached out to hold my maidens shivering body,

To dust she turns and blows away into the night.

Up from bed my body makes,

And round me not a single creature shakes.

No snowflakes cover my sacred grounds,

No icicles hang from atop the mounds,

No maiden by my fireplace.

All that is,

Is a snow-globe given by a lover past,

With a note written on near shattered glass,

I repeat words once spoken with a bit of a rasp...

" In your arms I'll always stay,

My heart will never fray,

For you my needle,

Your soul the thread,

Shall fix me up before I'm dead"

Back to bed my legs did go,

And under warm quilt where I retired before,

To dream about my darling angel once more.



Original Poem by SethWilson Isaac Gray