An Angel Called. Poem by Michael Gale
An Angel Called.
Angel dear, when we sleep....
All Heaven's angels and saints,
for you, will weep.
For your eyes will be closed...
Of your soul, God hath chosed.
Your saintly being...
God thy Father, could not help,
but seeing.
From your path, was left a wake...
Of goodness, no man could ever, take.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
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4/27/2024 6:16:11 PM # 1.0.0.1119
