Poems On Angel

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

I have fallen from sky,
Fallen to the ground,
I am the angel of sadness,
Angel of lost hopes,
Angel of lost dreams,
I am the fallen angel,
Fear me not,
I am here for reason,
That reason is to have a second chance in life,
That life I was given for a reason,
They took my wings,
They took me apart made me human,
I was the fallen angel,
But that fallen angel had one chance in life that she was given,
This angel won’t make the same mistakes she made before,
This angel will go down the right path that has been chosen for her,
This fallen angel know what she has to do to be forgiven.

The Angel that presided o’er my birth
Said, ‘Little creature, form’d of Joy and Mirth,
‘Go love without the help of any Thing on Earth.’

How sweet it were, if without feeble fright,
Or dying of the dreadful beauteous sight,
An angel came to us, and we could bear
To see him issue from the silent air
At evening in our room, and bend on ours
His divine eyes, and bring us from his bowers
News of dear friends, and children who have never
Been dead indeed,–as we shall know forever.
Alas! we think not what we daily see
About our hearths,–angels that are to be,
Or may be if they will, and we prepare
Their souls and ours to meet in happy air;–
A child, a friend, a wife whose soft heart sings
In unison with ours, breeding its future wings.

Go to sleep my angel and dream
Of heavenly places and heavenly faces
You shall be missed, my angel but rest in peace
In this world you could easily get hurt
Don’t fret my angel you are safe in God’s arms
He will take care of you
And will always be with you
Mortal dreams of riches, but my angel
You are rich for eternal life
So sleep now angel you are full of love and beauty
We will all be with you soon
Sweet dreams my angel
When you wake up you’ll know that
Your dreams have come true

I heard an Angel singing
When the day was springing,
‘Mercy, Pity, Peace
Is the world’s release.’

Thus he sung all day
Over the new mown hay,
Till the sun went down
And haycocks looked brown.

I heard a Devil curse
Over the heath and the furze,
‘Mercy could be no more,
If there was nobody poor,

And pity no more could be,
If all were as happy as we.’
At his curse the sun went down,
And the heavens gave a frown.

Down pour’d the heavy rain
Over the new reap’d grain …
And Miseries’ increase
Is Mercy, Pity, Peace.

An angel floated overhead,
With such soft gentle eyes,
I lay entranced upon my bed,
‘Is this like when one dies? ‘,
The notion flashed quick through my mind,
How was it he was here,
Why was he hovering, I was inclined,
To ask, but I in fear
Did not have courage to move or speak,
I seemed completely dumb,
There was no way that I could seek
An answer, I felt too numb.
He spread his wings and flew away,
The mists rolled in above,
And I sensed that I just had to pray,
My heart was filled with love.
I raised my head and looked around,
And then suddenly I knew
It was a dream and with awareness, found
My angel had been you!

They clamour and fight, they doubt and despair, they know no end
to their wrangling.
Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light, my
child, unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence.
They are cruel in their greed and their envy, their words are like
hidden knives thirsting for blood.
Go and stand amidst their scowling hearts, my child, and let
your gentle eyes fall upon them like the forgiving peace of the
evening over the strife of the day.
Let them see your face, my child, and thus know the meaning
of all things; let them love you and thus love each other.
Come and take your seat in the bosom of the limitless, my
child. At sunrise open and raise your heart like a blossoming
flower, and at sunset bend your head and in silence complete the
worship of the day.

Morning, evening, noon and night,
“Praise God!; sang Theocrite.

Then to his poor trade he turned,
Whereby the daily meal was earned.

Hard he laboured, long and well;
O’er his work the boy’s curls fell.

But ever, at each period,
He stopped and sang, “Praise God!”

Then back again his curls he threw,
And cheerful turned to work anew.

Said Blaise, the listening monk, “Well done;
“I doubt not thou art heard, my son:

“As well as if thy voice to-day
“Were praising God, the Pope’s great way.

“This Easter Day, the Pope at Rome
“Praises God from Peter’s dome.”

Said Theocrite, “Would God that I
“Might praise him, that great way, and die!”

Night passed, day shone,
And Theocrite was gone.

There’s an angel in my pocket
who is watching over me,
just a little voice down deep inside
that I can hear, not see.

I wish that I could let her out
so that everyone could see
’cause we have the greatest secrets,
many things she shares with me.

She whispers little things to do
to make my parents glad
and tells me when there’s something
that I want to do that’s bad.

Oh I wish that I could see her
not just hear her talk to me…
it’s just a little voice down deep inside
that I can hear, not see.