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Poem

She is my angel 
my comfort 
my support
my guide

She sits on a golden curb
Her cheeks held by two delicate hands
A light radiates her from behind
making her holy wings,
glow, and shine
Her wings stretch wide, 
free, and light
Helping to express her voluptuous figure,
She has round hips,
full, chocolate rose lips,
and a bust that holds the nature of motherhood

She is my angel
my happiness
my joy
my pride

Her smooth blackberry legs
dangle in the breeze
Golden rings, circle her wrists,
humming the angels song as they hit 
Fingernails of peach,
defining her uniqueness,
Her hair pulled into an afro puff,
showing she never forget who she was,
as a women,
a black women

She is my angel
my elegance
my beauty
my charm

Thin cotton white fabric drapes over her
The arches of her flawlessness covered,
exaggerating her purity
She moves with grace
to the melody of a child’s laughter,
Sparkling white teeth show themselves
as she smiles,
loving life
and all that she gives to it

She is my angel
my strength
my wisdom
my courage

Her eyes bright, 
calm, and focused
Watching life, as it passes so quickly below,
Her heart does’t not cry
for the broken,
Her soul does not give way
to desires,
Her mind does not worry
about tomorrow,
because she holds hope
as strong as her prayers,
and as thick as Jesus’ beard

She is my angel
My great grandmother Dagmar
My mother
My aunts
The women who love children
The women who inspire
The women of faith

She is, my black angel

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