Blessing to Be

From the lips of an angel. (Poetic prose)

Forks silver gleamed in the gloaming not to rise, as legs of metal, worn of battle and weary of weight, screeched on floors silent in words not wise. Vittles of origin not questioned, slipped between lips without confession, as eyes looked as strangers lost for expression. Heard in ear and not of chest, hearts beat alone (as) if not blessed. And from the aged not slain, innocence spoke not in vain.

“May I say the blessing?” asked Ariel.

Upon those words did spoon and fork, as not before and neither since, stood attention of soldier before their prince. Then as if a trellis rose, Von’s tongue let loose this prose.

“Yes my child a blessing to be, given forth my dear on bended knee.”

As one from the other, heads dropped to her without mother; and if an angel had surmised, the sight before no equal sunrise. Simple words of love were spoken, by a little heart not broken. And eyes once dry remained no longer, as hearts once weak became stronger.

Reading: Blessing to Be

Reviews

[Lorraine Pearson]

LOL... I think you have some definate poetic potential gleaming forth! Its rather cool the rhythm and rhyme, and you have it all enveloped in an exciting storyline! Consider poetry-- seriously! Fun, and intriguing write you have here!
~Lorraiyne

[AutumnStorm]

In absolute awe.