My Mom’s Angel
She sat majestically atop the Christmas tree
hair of gold
dress of white lace
her wings a silver hue
I watched each year
her being placed
with loving care
upon the tree.
My mother standing back telling Dad,
no, to the left,
The years have now come and gone
Mom and Dad have passed away
the Angel sits in her box now
her dress dirty and worn
hair frizzy & unkempt
buttons don’t shine.
Memories are made and then put away
as we remember this New Year’s day
just like Mom’s beautiful Angel
radiance never betrayed
shining so very bright
About the Poet: Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran and poet who is a three time Pushcart Prize and twice Best of the Net Nominee for 2016-2017. His work has been published world-wide in various publishing venues. Ken loves writing, thunderstorms, walking in the woods at night and spending time relaxing. Ken Loves Life!
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