By jackryhme@hotmail.com
Date: 17 August 2000
angels
        angels
round and round the trees we found 
games of lasting sight and sound 
flitting in on wings of gold 
sunlight dances to the ground 
.
into the air we raise our voices 
crying out about our choices 
drifting through our melodies 
one voice raised as she rejoices 
.
one today she so stands out 
sudden different her voice in shout 
wavering like a dreamy vision 
voice so pure it cast no doubt 
.
one by one we quiet then 
as hush returns to our small glen 
translucent as a candle flame 
her voice a clarion in gods own den 
.
her flame bright , to bright it seems 
her voice a purity you find in dreams 
shimmering waves of beaten day 
break round her in boiling  stream 
.
tomorrow it may come to pass 
as my day so come at last 
to rise high above the rest 
to sing an angels quiet mass 
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