In praying the Holy Rosary in the Chapel this early Morn
within my spiritual being I saw Mary as Queen of Heaven.
She was motioning for me to come to her,
waving her right hand and pointing to her heart.
I took it to mean, 'Come here to me.'
She wanted to enclose me within her heart.
Her appearance was as if delicate flesh colored porcelain.
Except she looked a little like a statue,
she moved with a gentle grace,
her dressing muted pale pink/mauve.
© Mel Patterson,11-30-09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem