"I heard an angel speak last night and he said 'write'" Elizabeth Barrett Browning
T here was a cemetery across from the street where I lived when I was young.
H ot summer days could find us there strolling down its winding shady pathways,
E ven racing bikes or playing Hide ’n Seek among trees and ornate granite stones.
B eyond the wide middle part of that graveyard, way in the very back,
L ay a secluded area set apart for the deceased of a prestigious family.
U ltimately my siblings and I ended up at the mausoleum in the center of that spot.
E ager to view its main attraction, we would stand on tiptoes before its window. . . .
A ll kinds of angels were scattered throughout that cemetery's sprawling lawn, but
N ot one outdid the angel appearing violet blue through that stained glass window.
G uarding the tomb of a small child, she knelt gracefully, her true hue pure white.
E ventually after years of showing her to friends, I left home forever; on my mind
L ingers this memory; on tiptoes, I'm marveling, face pressed against blue glass.
Blue Angel
You're crying?
What's wrong?
did anyone hurt you?
what's that burn on your wings?
What's that wound on your heart?
Tell me, what melancholy are you carrying?
Tell me, dear angel why are you blue?
You came form heaven to guard me
you carried me by your wings as we soar beneath the clouds
you listened to my silent words
and you comfort me in times of tears
you were always there for me
you were my best friend
so tell me, what's that burden you're carrying?
Oh no...is it because of me?
is there anything i said or did that hurt you?
If this is my fault, how would i make it up with my sin?
My Sweet angel,
I don't deserve to have you- a heaven's piece
at the side of me
My sweet angel, if i was the one who's making you blue
It's better if you go back to your home in the skies
than to have you here and hurt you so much...
i been boy around
i been messin around
i seen the sound of love
i give gov
i seen the white
i seen the night
but not this fight
shy
a little extreme
i miss my team
something wing
me
i need to see the course
and come back with force
who does this?
horse?
to melissa chambliss,my love
There in summer the hot hot summer of lives, why good
and evil or wick or mad or bad, why good weather or
bad weather why does the moons go to quarters and
full why is a posions why pine why do some trees grow
in the snow and other done it spring why are the
leave red white and blue, why do some people see
red, and some see nothing why are right hand people
and some left hand because thats life and why do we
fight back and why aren 't some door mates in th e
pain of life why is there love and hate why is the
sun yellow and hell red why is there snow and hot
ice and cold rain, who knew all I know if is was'nt
suppose to be here i wouldn't and that in its self
give be the right to fight back
Down through
canyons of
light
we rode
we moved towards
the mystic shrines
that lined
the path
One thousand
dawns and one thousand dreams
later
We are headed towards
the resolution of
our fate
Your eyes
shine so bright
in the cool
night
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