An angel sits there, weeping,
just on the edge of the crescent moon.
Her wings surround herself
within an unearthly protection.
As she wonders where next she ought to go,
or if ever she had really done
just what it was that she was meant to do.
And a single teardrop dared to speak,
whispering "I love you too..."
as joy became a living entity.
Lonely and forsaken then,
knowing only this,
this one pure moment
of a love so true,
that it knew that it must carry on
for the sake of love itself.
And it was carried then into existence,
where the winds will always blow;
and melted there, into the earth,
becoming more and more.
For all the worth of love
to grow into each flower that blooms
in every gift of spring...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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