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The Forever Angel
| Open Poetry #48 |
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The Forever Angel |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart 
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The Forever Angel Snow lay on the December ground, sparkling white with little sound children came home from far and wide, to spend holiday at parents' side Christmas glory echoed the halls, and cheerily to each they called "Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad, this, the best we've ever had!" Although it was but Christmas Eve, the house held sounds so merry children giggled so happily, ersatz tree in red cranberries brocaded stockings so large and vast, held by angels in bronze metal cast one could view in the scheme, angels were by large the theme "Mom, you outdid yourself again!" and the oldest boy smiled merrily as he glanced around the room to see handiwork of his mother so free, ivory lace covered the tables, white lace graced the angels' wings "Mom, when Christmas is in your heart, you sure make this place sing!" The old man watched his wife's sweet face, then pulled her into his embrace no words were spoken, just a glance, for in their hearts lay their romance the cheer and gaiety of the room abound, as their children gathered 'round mother blushed, dad did too, as she scurried away to fix Christmas stew as the children sought their rooms, the old man went to peek beneath the laden Christmas tree, some initials he did seek I.C.I.D. on a box in red kept him puzzled for many days tenderly he fingered the box, wondered what in it might lay. To his ears came a sound of distress, he hurried to the dining room there on the carpet lay his wife, he thought perhaps she'd swooned he felt for life, held his breath, but lo, he only saw the face of death gathered her in his arms so tight, a moan rent throughout that night. Days followed, solemn, vast, no Christmas for them had come to pass through ceremonies he had walked, but little did the old man talk Children followed the man on home, to remove all decoration but father exploded "NO!, leave it here, in commemoration!" The children left their father behind, amid the stockings and the gifts figuring Christmas beauty would help to heal the rift that lay within their father's mind, perhaps the season would impart some sweet remembrance, some soft peace to his broken heart. For many days he ambled around, solemnly walked over his grounds soon the season of winter passed, spring and warmth came with sound redbirds, orioles by the score, while ersatz tree stood upon his floor and the Christmas gift with I.C.I.D. glowed red under the Christmas tree. I.C.I.D., her message to him, "in case I die" was her spoken whim she always wanted him to know that if someday she were to go there would have been a way to believe that her love would never leave and the great package labeled I.C.I.D. glowed red under the Christmas tree Summer swept in, green lawns, blue skies, still the man hadn't cried his children now so far away, called often, though he didn't say what was really on his mind, just answered questions, said he was fine the red package labeled I.C.I.D. still glowed under the ersatz tree. Soon fall swept across the land, still the room was in Christmas grand as the man walked through his days, had found in him a way to pray. He believed in God, and a plan, but all his life, he took command so deep in thought this fall, one night, he took a stand, stood upright "God, you took her too soon from me, my sweet angelic wife, Mary, soon it will a year ago, when last I saw hair, white of snow when last I held her in my arms, when I was able to kiss her charms and all I really want to know, is that in Your love she still glows." He finally began to cry, as the season pressed to winter white long he dreamed of his Mary, come to him in softest light her golden voice he could not hear, though in dreams he held her near in the quiet of the night, his vision beheld her in his sight. With ersatz tree still aloft, last year's sounds still echoed soft the old man came in one morn, took his chair, still forlorn a year had come, and swept on by, the red package caught his eye I.C.I.D., in case I die, and he slowly shook his head. He picked up the package, it's golden bow still on so tight amazed was he at the weight, it seemed so very feather-light. "To my Tom" a label read, and again he slowly shook his head. "Ah my Mary, I love you so" and slowly he began to un-do its bow. Peace descended upon the man, as a whiff of perfume arose slowly, but so certainly with whim, a small smile came to him. He laid back paper of red, as he saw white hair on the head of the most beautiful angel ever to be, beheld the face of his sweet Mary. From the red box with golden bow, he drew forth an angel, just so with lacy wings, all dressed in sheen, but his Mary's face looked at him for she had crafted, with such grace, the whitest hair, the sweetest face and forever an Angel would she be, as she graced him with her memory. circa 12/2000 |
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| © Copyright 2012 Karilea Rilling Jungel - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Exquisite with a touch only you can provide...merry Christmas, beautiful lady.. |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Fine writing...almost enough to be a book...James |
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JL Member Ascendant
since 2004-04-01
Posts 6128Texas, USA |
"his Mary's face looked at him for she had crafted, with such grace, the whitest hair, the sweetest face and forever an Angel would she be, as she graced him with her memory." Great story, that last line is perfect. JL  Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul,and with all your mind. Love your neighbor as yourself. |
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