Guardian Angel

She has passed on, but her soul is not at peace!

Wandering around the earth,

flourishing the atmosphere with my fragrance.

Everyone I see smells the scent,

but they don't see me.

I'm invisible like the wind blowing the trees.

 

I go unnoticed,

roaming from place to place.

My spirit is restless, lost.

My mind is like a raging storm.

I send out cherubs of light,

but I'm still over looked.

 

My soul needs to be fertile,

but it is empty, I cannot move on.

I watch over you my love,

and my precious baby girl.

I will not rest until I see you happy again.

 

Implant peace in their hearts I pray.

I long to touch him and to hold our baby.

I sit down beside him,

watching him hold our crying infant close to his chest.

His sorrow is evident on his face.

 

My finger brushes a tear from his eye.

I lean over and kiss our child's soft fuzzy head.

For a minute his pain subsides,

and our child hushes her sobs.

 

My soul cannot move on,

so I'll linger on,

watching over you until your hearts mend.

Author's Note

Tell me what you think, please!

Reviews

[Moflo]

This is a very nice write, I have to say. I like how you ended it.

[Loner]

A beautiful write.

[Gone]

This is a thing great beauty. wonderful write. I can't believe I have not reviewed this before!

[Undying Glory]

very well-written here, this was just so great! very very touching work here. i just loved this. great job!

[G. K. Bostic]

I think it's warm and loving, and I'm so glad she's there to watch over them until they are strong enough to go on without her. I think this is special.

[VelvetRosetta]

Precious and tenderly sad...very heartfelt.

[sarah]

this is wonderful! great work!

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

Beautiful and Inspirational.

[Stef Outsiders]

wow, as i read this i felt her sorrow and pain, I guess as a ghost and haven't passed on it can become very frustrating... not being able to properly hold her child... this is really good!

[Ron]

A very lovely poem which generated a feeling in me like the one when I see my small grandson. Nurturing, tender poem. Harrisville should be proud of its girls.