Trail of Coins


Your promise 
shines 
like a trail of coins  

I am helpless 
but to follow 
you, 
my heart, 
to lock them 
in a jar

Covet them 
selfishly 

I once thought 
your luster 
untouchable  

My texture of dreams
finally 
a manifestation 
of a wish

Copyright (C) 2020 Penny Wilson

Image by klimkin from Pixabay

Angels With No Wings


Don Gregory. ANGELS WITH NO WINGS

We think we know how angels look, 
Flowing robes and big white wings. 
Way beyond the clouds someplace, 
Each one plays a harp and sings. 

There are other kinds of angels, 
This I'm finding out. 
If you ever need them, 
You'll find they're all about. 

They traded robes for scrubs and lab coats, 
They're in every color, and every hue. 
These special kinds of angels, 
Who watch over me, and you. 

Some have stethoscopes instead of halos, 
Caring smiles, instead of wings. 
Taking care of our afflictions. 
And the issues each one brings. 

Instead of harps, their music, 
Is a friendly soothing voice. 
They didn't have to be here, 
Each of them has made a choice. 

Nurses, doctors, techs and more, 
All handy on the scene. 
Therapists, and all the folks 
That cook, serve, and keep things clean. 

Perhaps it's a calling, 
That makes them good at what they do. 
All I know is that I'm glad they're here, 
To take care of me and you. 

When the Lord see's fit to call them home, 
And they're through with earthly things. 
There is a special place in heaven, 
For these angels with no wings. 

-Don Gregory

*I share this with Don and his wife Susan's permission.
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Image by Sathish kumar Periyasamy from Pixabay