#81
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![]() New angels are chosen from their pain.
I read a book on Jesus And how he died in pain Each scripture told a story That he'd return again. She felt a movement ,her back sang hymns Her shoulders squeezed the sky A feeling juddered in her spine As she prepared to die Extra colours, new to her Rushed to a bright new view Sound so loud but gentle As she passed ..her fresh wings grew And almost with a whisper Yet all could hear a change A coat of fresh white feather Flew out from every page Her breath had been a struggle But now blew crisp new air Her eyes turned to a beauty Where there had been despair And almost like that bible Each page of hope combined To gift her life forever Which earth could not provide Her wings were sewn in faith A thread with strength of steel And tied in knots of miracles she now had, the gift to heal She now understood ,her purpose And smiled because she knew Her pain had been her training That helped her soul renew ............. For angels grow from mortals Who are chosen for their fight Who have smiled although they've suffered And from darkness now find light. And from that moment she became An angel born from pain To gather hurt in others And help them...to fly again .. DS xx
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#82
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![]() re-posted for a re-read
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Memory can only tell us what we were, in the company of those we loved; it cannot help us find what each of us, alone, must now become. Yet no person is really alone; those who live no more echo still within our thoughts and words, and what they did has become woven into what we are. I wish you peace and a level path on your journey... Cal821 |
#83
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![]() A lovely poem. some of our loved ones in heaven may not have spoken words of love as much as they should have it's just the way some people are .Actions speak volumes and we must remember they loved just as much but found it hard to express .Never miss an opportunity to tell those dear to you that you love them open up and say those words because tomorrow they will be someones memories xx
Words he had thought but never said. And when he died He felt ....some words ,he had said.. Still lived on in people's hearts Words like... Sorry I love you Let me hold you He lay there dead But words he had said still lived And he wished he had said more lovely words... And he realised,he now would never be able to say them.. And he cried And words flowed from his eyes Like Fool, Wish, I had said. And more And these lovely words Formed a lovely puddle A puddle of how he felt A puddle of love.. He had felt but never said.. And he cried forever And his words were wasted Because ..now ...only he saw them... And he cried forever..at words he had thought but never said. Ds xx
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#84
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![]() A Dozen Roses
If I had a dozen roses, I know just what I’d do I’d give each one a name that reminded me of you The first rose I’d call sunshine, because you brighten everyday The second would be beauty, the kind that never goes away The third rose would be priceless, like those hugs you gave to me I’d name the fourth rose silly, oh how funny you could be Rose five of course is patience, something you have helped me find The sixth rose would be memories, the gift you left behind The seventh and the eighth are faith and serenity for your grace Nine would be unique because no one can take your place The tenth rose well that’s easy, I’d simply name it love Eleven would be angel, I know you’re watching from above I’d think about that twelfth rose, and I’d really take my time After all these roses are for you my love my Valentine I’m sending them to heaven in every color that I know So twelve I’ll name forever, that’s how long I’ll love you so
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![]() Last edited by hazelharris : February 14th, 2017 at 16:54. |
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