Narrative Angel Poems | Narrative Poems About Angel

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Mother and Child

and she said Yesterday,I lived for thoughts and dreams but today I live in my daughter's happiness All my goals I left behind to watch her reach her own All my friends I do not see,to stay with her at home Money might get tight,but what is money compared to pure joy of a child What is money compared to her almond eyes Success lies dormant on shelves for years to come But what is success compared to first giggles to first steps, first mouthfuls and her little grabs Compared to gurgles and babbles to first time she calls me mama and hold on to my hands What is beauty in the world compared to a pearl This innocent child,a coloured coral petite pretty girl Yesterday,I lived for thoughts and dreams But today I live in my daughter's happiness I had my days of wine and chocolate eclaires roses on doorstep,unsigned love letters with spiced cologne and enticing words Today I live in my daughter's shadow To watch her live her own dream I watch her bloom in autumn gardens from princess of hearts become queen Tomorrow I will not be here She might not get to see the white of my hair the wrinkle in my smile But,today she knows I love her long more after petals wither long more after a mother's hug fades long after I shine from the sky.
Dedicated to my beloved Christina with love Happy first birthday wrapped with barney hugs and Winnie the pooh kisses :-$:-|B-)

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2013

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Susie The Tiny Angel

She was the smallest of all the angels
although all the other angels were at 
least five feet tall, 
Susie the angel was no larger than a Barbie doll.

She was by far the cutest of all the Angels
but little Susie was a little sad this Christmas Season.

She had wings that's for sure, so she could reach
the top of Christmas trees but the toppers
were always too heavy which made Susie sad.

She spoke to the other Angels about it
of course they all offered to help her.
Susie explained she was thankful
but she really wanted to do it on her own.

That's when it happened Susie 
right then and there became the first
Angel to shed a tear.

She had turned so no one saw, 
but Susie felt badly.

The next day while alone Susie
thought of her troubles and it happened
again, except this time it was many tears.

"Wait" Susie thought "my tears sparkle".
So she thought more about her sadness.
More and more tears flowed.
That is when Susie realized this was all meant to be.

The next morning Susie visited her favorite homes
as she flew over the trees and spread her tears.

From that day on their were changes.
All Christmas trees would sparkle with 
the glitter of Susie's magic.

Susie wasn't sad at all she wasn't even crying.
She had been picked to be the Christmas Angel.
The one that made all trees sparkle.

Now Susie no longer worried about placing toppers.

To honor Susie changes were made to Christmas trees.
They were topped with a star that resembled her tears
or a small Angel just like Suzie, one that made
the whole tree glitter.

Sponsor: Carol Eastman
Contest Name: Children's Christmas or Holiday Tale 


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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The Devil's Tide

I looked up at a silver moon 
Peering through a cloud of misty gloom 
As we sailed across the Atlantic Sea 
That fateful night in June 
And as I stood upon the bow 
A furrow crossed my troubled brow 
When I saw a dying star fall from the sky 
As the wind out of the north 
Began to cry 
'Twas then with fearful heart 
I came at last to realize 
That we were sailing 
On a wave of ill-tidings 
Known as 'The Devil's Tide' 
For no omen of the sea 
Brought more fear than thee 
A fallen star -  a silver moon 
Together in the month of June 
If legend true would surely bring us doom 
So with no trace of land in sight 
We sailed onward through the night
I -  the Captain 'Louie Lou' 
With my faithful crew 
Aboard the 3 mast schooner 'Angel - of the Blue' 
On canvas wings we flew 
Upon the wailing wind that blew 
Then suddenly a hush of malaise 
Crushed the summer night
Filling all the crew with dreadful fright 
As all the stars in heaven lost their light 
And the silver moon dipped completely out of sight 
Leaving us to drift without guidance 
To our unknown plight 
An eerie sound began to roll out of the west 
Growing louder and louder as we held our breath 
Until it was upon us and the ship began rise 
As we looked in horror into the Devil's eye 
As the Angel of the Blue began to fly 
Up the Devil's breast she climbed 20 fathoms high 
One by one the Angel's wings were torn away 
As she fought to save us from the Devil's rage 
Screams of horror falling from her timber sides 
As the crew fell into the Devil's tide 
And I -  tethered to the helm -  watched them die 
As we climbed even higher into the Devil's eye 
And as the Angel's body creaked and cracked
We finally scaled the crest and rode upon the Devil's back
Just before I fainted and my world went black 
I woke up in the morning high on a mountain side 
Never knowing just how I had survived 
knowing only that my Angel and my crew had died 
Many years have come and gone since then 
And I am forever haunted by each and every one of them 
My faithful crew and my mighty 'Angel of the Blue' 
I see their faces in my dreams 
As I awaken to their screams 
Wishing, too -  that I had died 
But someone had to live 
To tell the tale of the 'Devil's Tide'.


Author:  Elaine George
Entry for contest:  Legends
Awarded:  First Place

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2007

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Dance To Love - Part 1

She danced with wild abandon she danced without a care With sun kissed skin, her arms flung wide Wild flowers in her hair I chanced upon this secret glade while walking early morn A sacred aura surrounded it a jewel in the dawn A type of place where angels dwell A place of Hopes and Dreams A magic place of lush green plants And sparkling bubbly streams I drew back lest she saw me, I dared not break the spell The Autumn leaves swirled round her and to the ground they fell Like homage to a Goddess, that she must surely be For Gods to but gaze on not mortals such as me She twirled around so fast I could barely see her feet And even though I stood afar I knew she gave off heat Then her tempo slowed right down the air became quite chill The Elements were but her slaves, she ordered them at will I could have watched forever so mesmerized was I What would I give to dance with you I murmured with a sigh To dance with wild abandon with this Angel from above A hundred birds would sing out loud to watch us Dance To Love

Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017

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Night Angel

They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
The man.
The child.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
The terror
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A passer-by.
A doer of good deeds.
He stops.
He sees.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
He runs.
He hides.
The passer-by,
Believing he saved
A child
From a long, cold walk,
In reality
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.

Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013

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Faraway Dream

Thorns tearing as a soul cries out 
For a magic star to appear in the Heavens
Lost in the silver of the moon face 
alone inside a chandelier 
star lighting crystals a rainbow of love
In each teardrop one star falls
Within thoughts dust a trail 
falling water sparkling over jewels glistening 
in each and every wish granted
Shimmering silver treasure 
falling in love you are so beautiful 
sweetly beyond this world and the next 
Twinkling behind dazzling sparkles
jewels of everlasting happiness
bliss will be the joy it brings 
in never ending beauty sings 
Each a warm fluttering inside wings
blushing ruby red lips kissing desire 
deeply turning keys passion hotly breathes
Warm with a fire burning bright
flames openly embracing you love
softly and tenderly sighs sweetly
Touching this dream a gentle warm glow
holding the heart open 
to one stunning beauty of a queen

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2014

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My honky tonk angel

I have dreamed so many dreams of life in Texas
Of cowboys and of the history I'd find there
So many hours I have been driving 
but all I see are oil wells everywhere .

Long dusty roads and lorries hauling 
Miles and miles of heavy industry 
but just as I felt my spirit falling 
A vision of loveliness appeared to me . 

Calling to fill my car with fuel 
Perhaps a diet coke to quench my thirst 
Sat behind the counter on a stool 
An angel giggled as I cursed .

She was so pleased that I was from England 
She said my accent sounded like a song 
She listened intently to my story 
Then bluntly told me where I'd been going wrong .

There's a nice hotel in town if you are staying 
You can pick me up at seven by the door 
You're a nice guy but I hope you don't mind me saying 
No guy ever needed my help more .

I drove her to that honky tonk at seven 
Those jeans so tight I swear they're made of paint 
With every word she spoke I felt I was in heaven
Those green eyes would make the toughest cowboy faint.

We danced then I sang her a ballad 
My rendition of always on my mind 
We kissed and we talked for hour on hour
Never have I met anyone so kind .

I walked her safely to her front door
A ranch style house on a leafy avenue
She gave the kind of kiss that shook me to my core
The strangest most beautiful woman I ever knew .

In the days that followed I found Texas 
It was everything I ever thought it could be
and all the while my wonderful honky tonk angel 
Was right there sharing every sweet moment with me .

Copyright © DARREN WATSON | Year Posted 2014

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Angels of Mercy

Angles of Mercy
Kevin L Fairbrother

There is not to many of us that can say that the owe their existence on this earth to a Native in a Foreign country, in my case I can say that without the help of the Fuzzy Wuzzy  Angels of New Guinea, I would not be here to write this 

My Father served with the Australian Imperial Forces in the Middle East, New Guinea and Borneo, a sapper in the engineers his service with the AIF overseas was over a period of 4 years.
The time my father served in New Guinea fighting against the invading Japanese has great consequences for me as I was conceived not long after his return to Australia and back home to Tasmania.
My father along with thousands of diggers who served in New Guinea, suffered not only from the Japanese forces but from internal diseases that were rife at the time, the mosquito spread Malaria and Gengy fever and the climate of New Guinea and poor sanitation spread Dysentery throughout the camps.
A big push by Japanese forces pushed the diggers back into the hills and forests and as the numbers of sick and wounded were growing at a very fast rate, the Generals decided that they had to find a way to get the sick and injured back to Port Moresby. 

The only way down from the steep mountainess jungle was via an old supply trail used by the natives to sell their wares at Port Moresby, It became known as the Kokoda track and to this day many thousands of people trek this notorious track to relive the past and to familiar themselves with the torturous and dangerous trail of misery and death and to pay homage to the Fuzzy Wuzzy angels act of sheer strength and perseverance to carry and support the many sick and injured, the dead and dying to a place of safety at Port Moresby.

 Even as the column of misery descended down the track the Aussie diggers were fighting the Japs in a rear guard action, this hard fought battle turned the tide for the Japs were beaten back and even though many diggers were killed and injured it was a turning point in the war against the Japanese invaders.
Thousands of diggers reached the safety of Port Moresby and so many owe their lives to the Fuzzy Wuzzy angles, many were shipped home, and others recovered from sickness to fight the Japanese in Borneo. My father was one of these men who helped beat back the Japanese army and have an influence in the Japanese surrender.

I salute the courage and tenacity of the Fuzzy Wuzzy angels and thank them for bringing my father to safety and eventually home. Like many diggers of World War 2 they kept their feelings and stories of war to themselves, my Father never said much about his service in the war and what little I know has been told by others. 
I also salute the courage and fortitude of our diggers who kept Australia safe from invasion from the Japanese. 
My Father, (rest his soul in peace) went on to have a productive working life, rearing 9 children, 6 were born after the war including me and 6 of us still survive today. The six of us born after my father returned from the war owe the native Fuzzy Wuzzy of New Guinea a big thanks for without their courage’s deed of mercy we would not be here. 

Kevin L Fairbrother
Who were these men of such courage and fortitude?
Whose hair curled and matted reached for the sky
Well, muscled and full of resolve to complete the mission
To get the sick and injured Aussie Diggers home to safety

Never thinking about their own well-being or safety
The Fuzzy Wuzzy angles as they became known
Carried and supported the Diggers down the mountain
Never flinching nor feeling that they would fail the mission

Endless rain, a sea of mud, so steep hard to stand up
Raging rivers, swollen streams, impenetrable jungle
Constant darkness from the thick forest canopy
The Fuzzy Wuzzy persevered with strength and courage

On stretches, on their backs using their bodies as support
These angels carried an endless tide of sick and injured
Down the notorious Kokoda track of misery and death
Contemplating to never give up on their mission of mercy

With Japanese mortars and bullets befalling the column
As the Diggers fought a rear guard action to stem the Japs
The Fuzzy Wuzzy continued their mission down the mountain
For their job was to get as many Diggers as possible to safety

Eventually they reached the safety of Port Moresby
Largely due to the push by the Diggers to push back the Japs
The Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels were given a hero’s welcome
And to this day a revered and honored for their mission of mercy

Copyright © Kevin Fairbrother | Year Posted 2015

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Earth Angel

"Oh my God how beautiful!"
   exclaimed my four year old
Granddaughter as we drove over
     a small bridge and she saw 
the wash with muddy flowing water.
     I was reminded at that very 
moment how my prayers for an
     enlightened teacher were evident.

Her love spreads out like ripples in
     a lake as her vibrations expand.
The colors in her aura radiate a 
     wisdom from many lifetimes.
An Indigo child filled with compassion,
     when she speaks I listen and learn.
She sees a beauty in me I don't see.
     I see in her an amazing reverent glow.

As we journey through her formative
     years together, far faster than I desire,
I watch her contentment grow along with
     her uninhibited vivid imagination.
It is indiscernible who is raising whom.
    Her joy of living predicates why she's here,
why she has returned to another earthlife.
     She is an earth angel and my blessing!

© Connie Marcum Wong

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016

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Brothers and sisters of Eden

A world changes course 
expelling the good grim reaper 
twisted joke 
entering this forbidden zone 
called democracy 

Careless acts of violence black and white
mothers burying their children 
so much tears soak the very grounds 
salt of this earth 
where moral order breaks down 
in societies failure 

A bad replacement shapeshifting demons rule
Where no longer they care about peoples suffering 
removing God's teachings from schools 
so our forefathers died in vain blood of our ancestors 

Taking away human rights 
amnesty international laugh a minute
lawless democracies without proper vision 
killing without just cause tyrants bragging ill will
Without facing the justice of all lands 

Murder is murder so says the judge above all 
stealing is robbing without deeds aquired 
laid down by the Lord on stone himself 

We all know its the devil's playground now
Darkness of your souls reek with many lies told 
When fancy coated words fall out vomit 
from the mouths who ware suits 
As that is a trademark 
of the biggest robbers there is 

Stealing even by stealth or forced to ground 
poisionous morals killing the seed of truth 
sewn from the garden of lust dark or light

Open your eyes blind beggars of hell 
disfunctional greedy merchants and war criminals 
alike you all sign a pact together like wolves 
we see the suffering and torment of your weapons 
tipped with poison blaming everyone but yourselves

Creating hate through your neverending violence 
amongst the innocent victims raped of everything 
God be merciful unto your rotten souls

Damning the victims with your pride filled agendas 
we all become victims if we sit without a voice listen pride 
Peace is the way forward that looks above and beyond
stand down dark spirits  your lust knows no bounds 
drunken with greed 

Light of our saviour will come 
one day supreme commander 
I will kneel to the creator 

When this earth goes into darkness again 
we need to pray for salvation 
no longer do we walk 
but stumble in the pathway 
of his loving ways 

Rock of faith we stand strong 
for our childrens sake 
to give them a future generation 

Mercy shake hands 
make Eden beautiful again
The signs are coming to pass
to celebrate the happiness and joy 
Heaven above the angels will sing

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016

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Oh, I'd seen the sea in many ways
I heard so many lies coming from he
darkness is a playground 
for the lost and never found,

Lies is in his eyes
Lies is in his soul
Lies is all he knows 
I'd seen better days 
but that was sometime ago ,

Dying is the place of grace 
dying is to rest your head 
dying is the grave 
that holds your name
its the history of who you are,

Life was slow and sad
but Dark Angel was always glad
when someone was made
I was crying alone 
but again this is his darken throne,

He is the angel of all lies
He loves to make me scream
and give me a life of darken dreams
He loves to tell me stories 
that will make me weep,

Dark Angel is so mean 
I watch the sea turn red
I seen so many painful things
but most of all 
I would hear the lies of the dark side.

Poetic Judy Emery (c)

Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2016

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The People Around Me

Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.

Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.

My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered. 

In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised, 
But it is to be called someone, 
Who can be respected.

To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.

Copyright © B S Sky | Year Posted 2013

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The Abstract Angel

her wings do spite her

her soft lips beckon

behind them, shearing mouth does wait-
her black and white heart loves to hate

her claws tear at my flesh-
with soft hand wrapped in lacey mesh

her skin glows with light-
her scales as dark as night

my heart she handles with gentle peace-
then devours with ferocious teeth

this angel, her wings do spite her

Copyright © James Sessions | Year Posted 2013

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As a stranger I met you

As a stranger I met you
Pure and gentle was your appearance
You spoke a touch without words
A breeze so pure like light

As I listened with my eyes
I smelled the taste of beauty beyond honey
What a feeling?
An emotion lost within expressions
An experience of heaven's true Agape

Oh what an experience to share
A beauty whose light can't be gazed
A gift priceless to be bought free
Your touch so perfect to the broken

Yes your name is Love
Your nature perfect in quality and in glory
oh Eden's first language
You're that truth I can't hide 

Copyright © Jacob Owusu Sarfo | Year Posted 2013

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Talking to the Elephant

It was my turn to take care of the elephant last week.

It asked how I and the rest of humans have managed to talk to him.

It was a very interesting question and it blew my mind.

Later that day, I went back to my room after my job.

I locked the door, and crawled under my bed in a tight circular ball and started crying.

My mind was blown and I was not sure how I was going to get it back.  

This was not a terrorist attack, it just happened.

To be honest, it was completely my fault, I let it happen.

The next day, I got up and spent about an hour preparing myself. I put on makeup, brushed my teeth, put deodorant, did a few readings and solved some problems, sagged my pants a little bit and put on my favorite hat. Then I went down stairs where the elephant was waiting for me.

We went for a two step.

Copyright © Elie Barongozi | Year Posted 2016

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Don't Leave Me

I can't imagine being alive without you
I can't imagine what it will be like when your gone
I don't know what I'll become without you
Maybe I'll just run
Run away from everything and leave everyone behind
Maybe I'll find a way to be close to you
Because I won't believe you died 
My heart will ache so much more 
Tears will always run
My eyes will hold the wisdom 
That you bestowed upon me young
And my recklessness will be noticeable
People will wonder why
Why am I running when the person I needed most died
How can I face my life when I can't do anything right
I won't believe you have gone away
When God decides to take you
I'll still come by your house and always expect an answer
I Love You Gamma
You Taught Me About My Heritage  
Please Remember Me When God Takes You
Please Guide Me In the Right Way

Copyright © Riah Clark | Year Posted 2013

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Letter to taeljejohn

uncomfortableness, and hesitation arose that you might reassess a possibility for friendship or.... whatever with me.

A disappointment set in place in the event that based on some facet of my being (inexplicable flaws within this corporeal human male), forecast that an about face (booked on charges inherent in this googly eyed, earth-linked, kool hotmail of a yahoo) would be un liked!

Juno what i mean? 

In retrospect, no matter that this average boyish chap desires enjoyment, he admits that ordinary punctuating various stages of development difficulty coping found him msn (miss sin, missin, missing, et cetera) on ordinary interpersonal experiences!

No matter yours truly usually finds me each morning, noon or night conjuring up maximizing temporary residence on this planet earth versus bemoaning those futile and essentially counterproductive mind games sans could a, might a, should a, would a...

today = the moment to cherish, enjoy, help others, ponder the remaining years
since fruitless to expend tears
for suppressed emotional, financial, grammatical, hormonal, physical, and spiritual angst
 that roiled mine inner sanctum - mainly from decades in the past
   which unseen scars with humor this fellow (who by the way likes you) wears!

Notice the sly inclusion of my comment per -- affinity, desirability, rhapsody for you
although just but a mere inkling prevails about an ye taelje john thru
a rather contrived manner - albeit an online adult oriented website - amongst a slew
which yields to this bipedal hominid a scant few
initial responses - as if a ghost app paired in the recipient email - going boo
which unwittingly seems to turn the ivy blue! matter a constancy of follow-up electronic communiques occurs from ye
bringing tears of joy, that nobody can see
while simultaneously delivering digital glee
a reality check restrains proclivity and predilection to let thoughts run wild and free!

Immense and immeasurable mounts in moi little rock
inducing an electric arc for myself to kin neck embedded in all this schlock
for a sixth sense arises that this holme body strongly suspects yar self 
 to generate sunny watts as an s spy she lee Sherlock

but, reticence to gush with ebullience reins in a cascade
of utter delight washing o'er this less than satisfactory mwm 
 who as a boy and youth happened to b a frayed
of his own shadow - while walking along the boulevard of broken dreams
 listening to the sounds of silence on a green-day.

Thus => the following from one 

Cerebral being ™ in the am and pm
This ordinary human
Finds himself a mystery
Within the terrestrial
Firmament and frequently
Feels in a feverish pitch
At his existence
That seers the temple
Mounted upon this slender
Frame - wrought by the
Combination of genetics
In tandem with exercise
Which latter helps to
Sublimate the coiled 
Tension wound tightly 
Like an indestructible spring 
Without a healthy medium at large 
To channel emotions fraught within
Me might find demise
That would rent asunder literate fellow 
And thus annihilate without a trace
One true valued father of two us special
Lovely lasses as just another statistic among 
The obituaries!
As the world turns (indiscriminately oblivious of the harrowing days per one simian), an agreeable, amiable, edible, immeasurable, likeable, pleasurable, sensible woman (such as yourself - predicated on a gut level intuition) goads more seriousness to share

Plaintive unheard heart strings o mine that wail
Displeased with this marriage fraught with travail
As if in a maelstrom whip-lashed vessel without a sail
Yet - averse to lambaste or rail
Against abby (whereby we pass like two ships in the night) who married this male
When each of us happened to seem more similar 
   And thought each ourselves to fail
At any endeavor, though now confidence 
   Buoys my heart while she doth ail

And exemplifies attitudes, beliefs, efforts, 
   Idiosyncrasies, pathos that life does rot
Ill suited to Matthew Scott, 
   Whose bon vivant manifesting faith in him
   Perhaps from herself deferring many domestic 
   And child rearing tasks not
Of course being boasting - even when scissoring the umbilical cord
   As a now beaming papa, whose daughters 
   Blithely ignore "mother" a lot
Thus necessitating this quest 
   For a counterpart to offer succor 
   To eden (age 16) and shana (14 on february 4th, 2013) 
   Yet accepts that i must dispel any dreamy fantasy even this ours - a mere jot
At this juncture knowing full well how unwise to set myself up for disappointment
   By thinking and rushing like a fool, 
   Where angels fear to tread
   Though "chutzpah" i got!

U r slowly filling my mindscape with joy
Thank you so much - for accepting without complaint how atypically words this writer wannabe 
   Named Matthew Scott Harris dozen ploy.

Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2013

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The Woes Of Trust

An angel formed from 
lake of purity,a gift to 
darkest parts of hearts.
A chaste damsel,
untouched rose from the 
garden of the elves.

Sent to earth,made an 
abode in a gentleman's 
heart,whom she 
cherished and loved.

As time travelled,another 
fella whom she trusted 
lured her to un-saintly act
Her pride laid on altar of 
dishonor and infidelity.
Her life she almost 
snuffed,she feared the 
love of her true love 
would be lost. Alas! bond 
of love is indivisible.

Shattered,with a broken 
spirit she tries to mend 
the pieces....on the 
shoulder of her lover she 
leans,hoping to soothe 
her bruised heart.

A true story,a close 
pretty lady friend of mine 
was raped by her family 
friend yesterday...who 
called her and told her 
his mum was very sick.
She called me and 
confided in me .
Don't know whether to 
encourage her to call the 

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

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A Pink Angel

A pink angel
with tiny wings
fell off my Christmas tree.

She sighed on Easter Day,
on bright pink seat.

I will say hello tomorrow -
put her by the clock,
so nod her head to the steady beat.

I'll tell her it's not Christmas.
If she could kindly wait?




Contest  - Story Poem

Sponsor - Carol Eastman


1st place win

Copyright © Julia Ward | Year Posted 2015

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Rigel's Angel

I see an angel fly across the sky.
She stops and haloes Rigel,
    and looks down upon me,
         with answers I already knew.

Have you come to tell me no?
You will obey me but not him?
Then you come to tell the end.
You know the river that flows therein.

It pours to and from a woman,
    from the dew of a million mornings.
It’s course is a circle and has no end,
    with the wakes of her vessel,
        drowning these eyes a deeper blue.
And as the benevolence of her intrinsics
    reach to touch perfection,
         they define my reverence,
                writing perpetual psalms.
She is as bright and profound,
     as the stars are in the heavens.

And she is just as far out of reach.
You waste these days chasing a ghost,
      and have traded allotted years in envious choices.
No life in these torrents of sin.
Its waters breach seeking itself —boasting,
      a season’s colors fallen from where they had been.

Because she belongs
     to a Libertine who’s infidelities
           run the gauntlet of durations?
Some possession to control and degrade,
      her heart he keeps in a box of lies,
            using the brine of soul and sorrow,
                 to erode grooves into her face.
Broken times before him,
    mercy he always denies,
          tell me he does not turn and smile.
Reprobated armor unscathed by the arrows of virtue,
    a given blessing sacrificed to the deceiver,
           in this season,
                  he has forfeited her to me.

You can decide what is negated,
     despite what you read in the living truth?
Righteousness is always it’s own master,
     never at the service of your exceptions.
You trespass into her covenant,
     with no regard for the sacred.
Have you forgotten David?

In her eyes, I know who I see,
     and that fool is far from Uriah—
          Give her back what I need her to give me.
How long must she suffer?
Hanged by this obligation,
     she is yoked to a corpse,
           and his weight is killing her.

The Father’s grace is more than sufficient,
      in the temporal trials that forge the soul,
           but you damn hers in every embrace.
Words that have her stumble into your bed,
    have taken days she will now not see.
You have tightened iniquity’s noose
      around her heart, 
          tearing her soul.
It is you who is killing her.

Tell me what I feel is not a truth piercing my forever!
Tell me I am not sincere in days and dreams!
Tell me that I would forsake her!
Tell me my tears are false!
Tell me I am a liar!

You lied to yourself in believing
     that love and the sins of another man,
         could make you righteous in yours.
You are a thief that has betrayed
     the truth fully convicted in your soul.
Before you filled your heart with the blood of this woman,
     the world and favor were placed at your feet.
Selfishly holding one while trampling the other,
      recklessly sacrificing your own heart,
             before this season’s end.

Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2015

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My Baby Sister

My Baby Sister My baby sister, Karrean Went home to eternity Her soul is with our Lord To share His full serenity For siblings we were all close Our childhood was the best I’ll never forget the fun we had Our entire family felt so blessed She always showed love To everyone she knew We all loved her so much And she loved us all too As she entered Heaven My mind envisioned this She met her first grandson To give him a hug and kiss I could see her holding him Two days before his birth Giving him all her love To bring back to this earth There is one more vision Another blessing that I see She is also up there in Heaven Spending this Father’s Day with daddy Florence McMillian (Flo)

Copyright © Florence McMillian | Year Posted 2016

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The Unknown Angel

I am only a mere mortal.
Near total perfection even my reflection is afraid to stare.

Exit reality through a portal,
between Heaven and hell up three flights of stairs.
"I shall call this place Earth", I said
to a group of ten who just witnessed a universe's birth.

Here we will rejoice and love one other
Even though our blood is not one you are thy brother.

We all are one forever and after
pain with joy, sadness with laughter.

Above a light serves us with endless life,
to wage war with death is a meaningless fight

Copyright © Gerald Moise | Year Posted 2014

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My Angel

My Angel I prayed everyday Every moment I could I needed a partner or soul mate Well I really thought I would A real prince charming type Someone really true to love To replace all the loneliness Someone sent from above Instead He sent me an angel So handsome, gallant and kind Someone I could actually trust Better than I could ever find Not to be my soul mate Or even a boyfriend Just to be my angel A true God send To lift my spirits Helping with care Proving that he will Truly always be there My angel brings me comfort A true friend who has my back Like my prayers were answered Filling my void to remove the lack God gets the credit for sending my angel An angel wanting only kindness in return My angel was sent as a reward for good deeds For paying it forward, my angel I have earned I no longer worry about finding someone to love As I am treated special by my angel who is a gift This type of angel only comes once in a lifetime So blessings go to my angel for his spirits to lift Florence McMillian (Flo)

Copyright © Florence McMillian | Year Posted 2012

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The banks are bear 
the cold is in this September air 
streams of pain are being cast
from an old beaten down past
The castle of darken dreams 
Dark Angel holds the key 
Oh,he is so mean , 
Green grass by the wooden path 
fair flowers among wild weeds
there are great depression along 
that painful path of traps 
that will over take your souls , 
Dark Angel loves to play with  black magic 
he cast his spells of darken 
on all who sleeps 
he gives the very bad dreams 
to make your heart pound faster
your mind will race
the only thing you can do is scream ,
Your tears will fall
and the old red sea will flood 
the old scallop leaves will fall 
among darken dreams
into every inch of your mind 
will play over time 
you hold on to your soul 
and pray to never let it go,
darkness is all around 
and that will be all you can see
until Dark Angel takes his stand 
and open the door 
with is long key
of darken dreams 
he will give wonders and worries 
through out your days 
to make you loss your way
to loss your faith in love, 
your life will become so gray 
holding so much pains 
love will turn into  hate 
this is the life Dark Angel gave 
to the heart strings of pain
of rain to flood out your tears  
no soul will ever be spared 
the expressions up on all faces you 
can see they are in darken places 
you will never see the light of faith 
in their darken eyes Oh, pale , pale lips 
do cry out Dark Angel shouts 
Come to me Moonlight and see 
what it is I have done, Dark Angel has me
pleading for him to let the others go
I am crying with the sea 
because his rage is out of hand
I'm afraid and very weak to even think, 
When I try to explain what I was feeling 
it didn't matter to him anyways 
Oh, pale lips come to me and kiss the pains
of me your King , 
Dark Angel walks over to me
I am hearing bad things I hear things 
I must not speak I must stay strong and meek
but this darken place makes battle 
that no one can win , 
I am in way to deep I'm losing this fight 
for my own rights Dark Angel kissed me 
as if he is taken the life out of me 
I feel I could no longer breath 
He is given me the pains
of rain of yesterdays memories 
that will never go away September 
will always be remember . 

Poetic Lilly Judy Emery (c)

Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2016

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Conversation with an Angel Part 1

                                                    Conversation with an Angel

I live in an average neighborhood, in Colorado Springs. I like to refer to my street as
the ‘all American street’. Most of the homes in my neighborhood were built between the
1890’s and early 1930’s. Our yards are reflective of our personalities, so I believe. An
eclectic mosaic of manicured and not so manicured lawns, xeriscaped, not so xeriscaped
yards fill the view as one drives down the road.  
We still say hello as we pass by, and many walk our dogs or just enjoy the company of a
loved one for an evening stroll. With Pike’s Peak as our back drop I think most of us feel
blessed to call our neighborhood home. 
One night while out walking about an hour before dusk, I noticed something not quite
right. A little out of place if you will; between the road and the sidewalk is a section
of yard for each home, about 10 feet from sidewalk to curb, with Elms and Oak trees
agelessly garnishing the street, I happened to notice a man about two blocks ahead, bent
down ‘doing something’ quite contently. Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess I was just
fixed on the length of time he was bent down. As I approached, I imagined what he was
doing, “an injured pet maybe or damaged sprinkler head”. As I came closer I noticed he’d
look up in my direction, and back down again. I had a sense that whatever it was he was
doing; he wanted to be done before I arrived. I picked up my pace, more curious than
worried. Finally, as I crossed the next street; he was within ears shot of a quick
“hello”. He looked up and nodded back, then down again at whatever he was doing. I could
make out his features and knew he was ‘not from around these parts’. It was summertime,
and his appearance was quite disheveled. His face was unshaven, not a beard, but a few
days growth, wrinkled and tanned as if he’d been homeless for a while. His hair was
tousled, bleached from the sun with wisps of gray. I found it odd, that he had on a long
tan rain coat, blue jeans and sandals with no shirt underneath.

Copyright © michael hornschuch | Year Posted 2011

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A Gullah Angel

“Be still sad heart and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining,
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life a little rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.”- - Longfellow

Charleston, SC
After the Old Bethel church had been in decline for many 
years it was moved to its present location for the Gullah. 
A smell of salt always in the breeze, the sound of waves 
crashing on the rocks may be heard.

He stands in the old adjacent cemetery looking at a grave,  
adorned by an ebony angel, a tear falls as the wing tip is touched.  
My story was in a different time and place, a different culture even.
Taking place in 1881 long after the terrible division was over. 
Yet the landmarks, preserved from that war lingered, 
even as they took on new meaning and significance.  
The churches were all touting “demon rum”
while the temperance leagues marched.
With drum and cymbal they moved, 
from church to levee, up the banks
and through the square where the Citadel stands.
Then turning left through the heart of Charleston
to stop at the open market place,
where everyone gathered in the long hot evenings.
The church not segregated then, the Gullah 
attended along with the whites- - 
more for show and display of wealth, than for religion. 
For that they would reserve Sunday evening
and a larger church in the heart of town.

He lived adjacent to the church, beyond the graveyard.
The first time he saw her, she saw him first.
When he looked up and caught the stare
the most amazing look of rapture came over him.
Both were embarrassed and neither could speak.
He finally composed himself and invited her to come into the garden. 
After a short fiery relationship her swollen condition
prompted the church to intervene.  
It was on the verge of ostracizing both of them 
when she slipped on the rocks of the jetty. 
As he tried to save her she delivered a son.
In all the confusion and darkness, and because of her weakened 
condition he could not save both of them and she died.  

His Great Grandfather lived and so continued the long line 
on down through his grand babies. This one would not have known her 
even had she lived to a ripe old age.  But the fact of love denied to
these two young people in that moment in time, has been told and
retold down the generations.  Sometime, in the lifetime of each 
generation, the statue has been visited to keep a promise that is made 
by every son of every son. 

Sept. 29 2011 Charles Henderson
For Constance's "Church by the Ocean" contest

Copyright © Charles Henderson | Year Posted 2011

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Conversation with an Angel Part 3

“Yeah, all the way. No ride, no bus, just walkin’. I can’t quit till I give you your
message, and finish drawing this sand script so you’ll know I’m not lying.” I was shocked 
by what he was telling me. I looked around half expecting to see one of my neighbors come
out laughing and pointing and shouting “HA! You’ve been punked!” but no one was around;
just he and I alone. The man began to speak, and this is truly what he said, “You’ve had a
hard road to hoe, and life hasn’t always been fair in your eyes. But your angel wants me
to tell you not to give up. You’re finally on the right path. And he’s proud of you.”
“He’s a he?” I asked, stupidly. “Yes, he’s a he (as if I’d just asked the lamest question
of all time), now will you let me finish?” “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m just not used to men
drawing angels and giving me a message.” The man stopped what he was doing, and looked up
at me. The look on his face was as if he was thinking “If I had a quarter for each time I
heard that…”, but he said nothing. He went back to drawing, and was working on the detail
of the face and neck, drawing an outline of the shirt collar, and then back to the face. 
I knew this picture, but I couldn’t tell who it was, I kept thinking it must be a famous
person, why was it so familiar? “Your angel wants you to know, you’re not alone, he’s been
with you forever—since you were pretty much born. He’s sorry he left when he did, he knows
you needed him.” I just listened now, “You lost him when you were about 12, and life got
rough on you. He was there watching, and protecting you best he could.” I was stunned; I
could see who the face was now. Then the man stood up, and placed his hand on my shoulder.
He said these words, “He says to tell you, don’t be worried about buying that house,
you’ll grow old in it, and even though the world seems bleak, you’re going to make it. He
says you need to hear that, because he says you’re going to have a heart attack if you
don’t quit worrying.”

Copyright © michael hornschuch | Year Posted 2011

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Suddenly the words came at last
'Would you lend me your garden this season?' 
Your face lit up with surprise
'I want no seeds on them but your plant will I water' 

Oh what a terrible answer 
At such perfect hour?
Curiosity may kill a cat
But the truth its heart had seeked
I bet it did find 

A castle filled with dreams unattained
You grab the water kettle 
And head straight for my garden

Water in hand, 
Plant in another,
Minds racing 
With selective myopia
I try to stop you from stepping on it
And yet I stopped
For all I want is to have you water the plant in my garden

Copyright © CHIOMA ONYEKABA | Year Posted 2015

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Do you believe in Angels

  Diane, a Christian University student, was visiting
some hometown friends while on a summer vacation
from College.
  She was catching up on all the stories her girlfriends
and she wanted to share with each other.
   They got carried away sharing with each other and
before you knew it, it was very late.
   Diane hugged her friends and headed out. She lived
several blocks away. It was very dark and she felt
somewhat uncomfortable by herself, walking home
   As she was walking she decided to take a shortcut
through an alleyway. Midway through the alley. She
felt as though she was being watched! An eerie feeling
overtook her. Her emotions were overtaken by
uncontrollable fear.
   She was shocked when from the corner of her eye,
she saw a male figure staring directly at her! She
immediately felt threatened! He was not just looking.
He reminded her of an animal seeking out its prey.
The prey was her!
   Immediately she started praying as she was
approaching this male figure. She walked past him
and got close enough to get a good look at him.
    She then started running! Faster than she has ever
run before! Seeing her house, she was almost there.
She fumbled with her house keys. They felt like a
lifetime to find and unlock the front door!
     Diane felt relieved being behind close doors. She
sat down and caught her breath. She grabbed a towel
and wiped her sweat from her face. She drank a glass
of cold water and laid in bed until finally she was calm
enough to allow herself to sleep.
     The next morning  reading the local newspaper, 
she read where a woman was raped approximately 
20 minutes after she had passed through that same
alleyway, she had walked through.
     The newspaper said the police were looking for
     A suspect was arrested and Diane volunteered to
pick out the man she had seen that night, from a line
up of five men.
     She picked out the man in the lineup that she had
seen. The police further questioned him and he finally 
admitted to committing the rape. The police thanked
 Diane and asked her if there was anything they could 
do for her.
      Diane said there is one thing. Could you please ask
the perpetrator why he didn't attack the first woman he
saw in the alleyway.
       The police asked him. His reply was,"There were
two huge tall whitish men on each side of her. That is
            This story circulated on the internet.                  

                 Nayda Negron Angels Contest

Copyright © michael tor | Year Posted 2015

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The Angel Of Death

As I walk this earth 
Bare and broken
Blood soaked and driven
My soul in supernova
My mind, frenzied.

My body bruised
My sword well used
Breathing in fresh paint 
From beaten bodies and torn souls 

Sudden movement
A quivering soul
A careless action
My attention
To hold. 

A smile drapes
Bearing into my soul
The world disappears
My deathly hunger

Slow and pleasuring 
Each clink of steel 
Warms my heart 
Mending my soul

First blood, 
A lonely bead 
Inviting my wrath
It trickles 
No warning sold.

Teasingly, it lays in waiting 
Pulling me closer
Begging almost 
To bring more 
An abyss, 
It draws my victims in 
Craving, wanting, yearning 
To feel bloodied flesh 
Against my skin
A fear, I sense 
Another victim to claim

Pleasure streams 
Blood oh glorious blood
My eyes feeling, each soul I’ve claimed

A vulture stalking its prey 
Yet again
Imperative, a mission
Deep wanting, to quench

Valiance, a virtue, I dare not detest  
Submissive, he glares eye to eye
His being laid not to rest

Unsteady, yet giving.
My hands he guides to my sword
Thrilling me more 
A kiss so chaste
My heart explodes

Like a child 
I revel, 
Rapture so pure 
Beautifully he whispers 
“Be a sinner no more 

Take my soul
Gruesomely, I beg 
Treasure the blood
That my body 
So willingly sheds 

Your craving 
To sate 
I was born to the earth
Release your demon 
Release it form its depths 

Stay hidden no more
Bare, naked, run free
Believe it not a disease
But a gift 
As I see.

Unsheathe your sword
Glorious, shall it gleam
Purified, ready 
Through my heart 
Shall it go.” 

Pleasure shudders through me.
A kiss I lay 
Goodbye, my dearest 
Your debt has been paid.

Amanda Miller 
{This is to a new friend , a faceless being 
that brings out the person hiding in me }

Copyright © Amanda Miller | Year Posted 2012