An Appointment Upon The Vespers Poem by Marcus McKinley

Wings,
upon matins.
Whispers of angels.
These bells tied to bed posts,
her good deeds she savors.

She is admonished
with each bell that quivers.
Each angel shivers,
as if shedding cocoon.

Drawn to her, by the hands of fate.
All will find, there way to her gate.
Each knock bringing rapture... in his name.

The eager eyes of angels, anxiously wait.
Peering over headboard resonate,
joyous bells, oscillate.
In promulgations, canonical.
Prime, terce, sext, and nones
Her excitation a new baptismal.
Winged bells ascend crescendos in tones.
From lauds to compline,
Each angel flies home.