Poetry

Hush!  Is she awake?         I think not.         Look.  She stirs.         Quiet.                              “i am here”        

Silver pennants ruffled by the breeze distant trumpets, dancing notes from cloud to cloud. Misty haze lingers atop the battlements

  In the darkness on a summer night,             above the heavens, a wonderful sight. As I sat upon this

Last night I dreamed I met an Angel,             Sitting in my favorite place. She had a smile like morning

  I stand, by the garden window in December The wind, blows the leaves across the path in December The