Angelic
Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.
—Luke 2:9 CSB
Little cherub with wee little wings.
Strawberries, crushed, enamor your cheeks
in Victorian fashion. Oft naked,
floating on chapel ceilings,
near the mother and babe.
Little cherub, not scary at all.
Magnanimous glory you do not seek.
You’d be squashed
if you weren’t so squeaky clean.
Like fleas on the shoulder,
the angelic and the devilish,
depending on mood
will be flicked away.
Little lambs cut a hole in their ghost costumes,
out comes their head,
then they don
a halo - oh, the little angel.
God puts up with such things
as sticky wings -
irreparably weak.
Heaven they don’t seek.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
