Many times my wife has been called an angel on earth. This inspired this poem.

They have been married for sixty years.
Now she lies in a hospital bed.
He stays close by, shedding many tears.
Her death is near, filling him with dread.

He awakens late into the night.
All around her bed is a bright glow.
Angels surround her – a wondrous sight.
“She’s one of us. A lifetime ago

“she chose to live as a human.
We have come to take her back home.”
The man suddenly sees with acumen,
as through his memories he does comb.

He thinks of those times in combat
and in that car wreck when he somehow
survived, and all those many times that
people called his wife an angel now

takes on new meaning. Compassion
and generosity she does embody.
To all she meets she gives a full ration
of love and kindness, excluding nobody.

He’s filled with awe that she has selected
him as her mate. He feels unworthy.
He wonders how many angels undetected
live on earth doing actions thankworthy.

One of the angels assembled smiles at him.
He falls fast asleep. The next morning
a nurse awakens him; her look is grim.
“None of her alarms gave any warning,

but I am sorry to tell you she is dead.”
The man smiled. “Let there be a dearth
of sadness, for she has simply gone ahead.
I now know she was my angel on earth.”