The Ice Angel

What happens to the angel figure, that we make In the newly fallen snow, does it simply waste away Forgotten beneath the October moon? Oh no my dearest friends for it has been blessed, By the laughter of innocence children, and graced With joys utter bliss of happiness. It's been given a life spark, a gift from the angelic Spirits on high, illuminated by a polar glow above, And low behold the birthing of an ice angel.. Under the hushed spell of midnight, amongst the Diamond dust fields of winter, the fluttering Of shadow wings can be heard. Sheer to the light of ebony’s opulence, the blackened Figure stirs within her shallow grave, to emerge as A glistening specter of flights ascension. Thinned glittering gems sprinkled by faiths devotion, Are these appendages made of snow mists. Shifting with beauty, she soars to the kingdom of the lord. Reflected in the sunlight these ice wing chambers do shine, Capturing the colors of the rainbow, exploding, bursting with Each appendages flapping, climbing through the vastness of The heights, does not the warmth of the sun, embrace these Creatures of ice and snow, and so do they melt with sorrows Regrets, becoming heavens tear drops of frozen lace. Fractured shards of crystalline endities, whom almost touch The face of grace itself, yet none returning unto the earth below, As sleets crushed dreams of winter, thus this icy cycle of life Continues ever more. What happens to the angel figure, that we make In the newly fallen snow, does it simply waste away Forgotten beneath the October moon? Oh no my dearest friends for it has been blessed, By the laughter of innocence children, and graced With joys utter bliss of happiness. BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN