Linda Marie Van Tassell
A Little Angel
Far away on a billow
an angel lays down his head
upon a cloud-tufted pillow
with a sky-line for his bed.
A shroud of star-glow around him
and the moonlight's impending ray.
Misty evening light grows dim
as dusk overtakes the day.
Sweet love enclosed in his breast
with never a thought of sorrow.
The little angel takes his rest.
Sweet dreams to hail tomorrow.
Petite roses in his cheeks,
a crimson blush upon his lips;
and though his heart never speaks,
it is shown in morn's eclipse.
I love my little angel, mine.
He is such a beautiful sight
drifting on high beyond the brine,
free of the bounds of night.
Little angel with dove-white wings
sends a tender kiss to me.
A choir of heaven's angels sings -
a song that sets me free.
I cannot see his gold-lit curls -
his pathway of love and light
sending love to all little girls
that have wept within the night.
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