Wednesday, March 10, 2010

COMES THE STORM

© Gloria Smith 2010

Angels wings rustle through the sound of the trees

As they bend in the wind; a storm is coming

A Dove coos softly in the sighs of my heart

And the puddles on the ground reflect the tears in my eyes

A storm is coming

Confusion clouds my mind like sugar spun cotton candy thrown into the air

Multi-colored thoughts strewn everywhere for the birds to gather

For the Angels to share

A storm is here

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