I've seen an angel, whose gossamer wings
glimmer like the morning dew.

Yet, there is a sadness there, lingering,
upon that angel's face. A distant gaze,
one I know well, for I, too, let my
eyes linger out the window of my soul.


I've seen an angel, whose silent voice
penetrates the fog of my own personal pain.

The path opens up, yet always rocky
it is, as I tread softly along my way.
An occasional glance to gaze at this
angel with the gossamer wings, and the
urge to extend a hand, yet I hesitate!


I've seen an angel, out there in the
world, whose soul is so beautiful.

The soft, silent song carries on the
winds and lifts the shadows that I
tread within.

(c) 2003 A. Riddle