A.W. Books & Poetry

Blessed be the angels living amongst men,

For somehow out of tarnished, tin lives,

They have created golden ways to begin again,

I asked and they gave,

Surely I will never be the same,

For when heavenly spirits tinker with fate behind morning mist,

Even the oriole’s song becomes a love sonnet to the finch;

So, thankful-I am- to these spirits everyday,

For they granted me the Sun,

Captured in your gaze,

And if I stare at it’s rays ,

I take a trip through the space,

Without leaving your arms and mind,

A galaxy of our own where the stars never die,

Cosmically found in this twilight zone abyss,

I swear I saw Nirvana when

I tasted my name on your lips.

~Annalise