Melissa and The Angels, poem by Dawn Pisturino at Spillwords.com

Melissa and The Angels

Melissa and The Angels

written by: Dawn Pisturino

 

Melissa, in a tattered dress,
Came slowly down the lane,
A wicker basket on her arm,
Fresh eggs and butter from the farm,
Her tresses in a tangled mess,
Barefoot, and limping with the pain.

Her blue eyes shone with happiness,
For bending angels did explain
There was no reason for alarm,
No chance of reaping any harm,
While walking in the wilderness
So far from home again.

Singing voices — sweet digress! —
Rang out across the plain
Of waving wheat, sun-gold and warm,
And filled her with their charm,
Removing any waywardness,
Rebelliousness, or stain.

“Life is good — without distress —
When angels guide us in the main.”
As simple as a school marm,
She listened to the angelic swarm,
Lost deep within its holiness,
Repeating each refrain.

Melissa, in her tattered dress,
Veered off the dusty lane,
The wicker basket on her arm,
Ripe with goodies from the farm,
And met her mother on the grass,
Who welcomed her back home again.

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