The Angel Who Waits Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

I believe the Angel who waits is a beautiful soul.
My mother was reaching up when her time to go.
I saw smiles on a person's face before he left this place.
Oh yes the Angel who waits is a beautiful soul.

Joan of Arc looked up on high on her last day.
She uttered not a scream there some do say.
Instead she wore a smile looking as beautiful as a child.
Joan of Arc looked up on high on her last day.

I believe the Angel who waits was there with Joan.
The Angel had arrived to usher her home.
People there stood amazed, when this woman bore no dismay.
Yes, the Angel who waits was there with Joan.

My daddy once slid down onto the floor.
A peaceful way to go and that's for sure.
He never called out in pain, I'll be seeing him once again.
My daddy once slid down onto the floor.

The Angel who waits comes for us all.
It matters not if you're short or if you're tall.
If you're rich or if you're poor, he is coming you can be sure.
The Angel who waits comes for us all.