Friday, September 14, 2007
Storm clouds and bird © 2007 Rick Lee
When I was shut-in and abed
An angel came to me;
She fluffed the pillow 'neath my head
And brought a cup of tea.
Her cool hand lay upon my own
And straight my fears were gone;
The softest light about her shone,
Like mountaintops at dawn,
And louder than her voice to me
The hissing of the foam
Of waves upon a quiet sea
That sings the boatmen home.
And when my heart surrendered to
Despair, as sick men will,
That whisper would my strength renew
And bid my soul be still.
She sat with me by night and day
So long ago it seems;
But still she listens when I pray
And visits in my dreams.
© 2007 Jeffrey Hull