Glant Angels Poem by Sharron Stephenson

the clothes does not make the person,
the camouflage just masks the pain,
scatter the ashes of the words and the,
pictures around the four winds and season,
allow the friendship and the love flow through,
the heart and let the glant hand giude,
you where,
the angels sing the passionate kiss,

the comfort and pleasure that can be,
given and returned from a lover ora,
friend,

with a mixed mind and soul turn,
to prayer and serve the wisdom far,
and near,

for now and always