I'Ll Be No Youthful Angel Poem by Martha J. Eshelman
I'Ll Be No Youthful Angel
Angels sit on pins
and flap white wings
without an eyeblink
of passing time.
Angels walk barefoot
through satin mud
and emerge with clean
lily-odored feet.
Angels wear silk robes
with gold and amber crewel
with no sweat guards
or basement laundry.
I'm old, gilded with sweat,
perfumed in garlic and grease,
sprawled on a clump of sheets,
more alive than any angel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 12:02:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Nice interpretation of what angels do Martha! Oh if it were true! ! ! lol 10 from flutter by Tai