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Angels
Regarding angels I have this to say:
Their latest showings called forth some dismay;
Who can depend on cuddly angels much,
That giggle gleefully at every touch?
I like the angels that can also strike,
As does the glorious Angel Prince Saint Mike.
Some angels even look a little lewd,
With flimsy garb designed in Hollywood.
Wrapped daintily in finest filigree,
But all of them lack clout and majesty,
Absorbed in plucking strings they can’t avert
The loss of stricken sheep or wayward herd.
These angels lack in grandeur and largesse;
As they recline in postures frivolous,
In all varieties they come, tall, thin and broad,
Invade our space and screens,- but minus God,
Perhaps it is a sign of our time
That angel cult replaces the Sublime.
There is that tale Charles Dickens holds in store
About a little boy that wanted more,-
Outrageous!! - but I do identify
Increasingly - Alas! - as time flies by
With that demanding scrawny little lad-
I do not know if this is good or bad.
I like the angels to be strong and bold,
That need no wheedling, nor to be cajoled;
They must have majesty upon their brow,
Their features must a deep compassion show,
Their traits inspire reverence and love,
Especially when times are harsh and rough.
No filigree - but angels that can lead,
And lift me up when down in bald defeat
My angel needs not be so sweet and bright,
If he but can take up for me the fight.
And guides me wakefully along the path
To God without a harpsichord or fuzz.
I love the harpsichord,- don’t get me wrong!
And am so fond of music and of song!
But first things first, in times of great distress
Let angels radiate clout and steadfastness,
Pray the great warrior angel to command
And bid the languid angels to disband.
I pray Saint Michael graciously defend
From usurpation and to promptly send
His fighting host with buckle sword and lance
To stop devout idolatry at once.
Nor bare bum angels gigling full of glee,
Or twang some lute a little mawkishly.
We must be truthful - and speak verity,
I do,- and say these spirits arn't for me.
To make it short I need a chivalrous man,
An angel true and strong that will not fan
Obsession untoward, but will promote
The glory only of our Lord and God.
© Elizabeth Dandy
There are angels treading among us, though oftentimes we do not notice them. They have a habit of becoming invisible, though not always of their own accord. Their garb may oftentimes be sodden and bedraggled, their hair disheveled, & their eyes w/sadness filled, but they are angels nontheless, like the Dickens' boy in your wonderful poem about Angels. But underneath their fragile looks, a spirit strong & stout to go on living under dire skies no matter how badly hurt betokens the divinity to be found in every human soul if we just dig deep enough.
(Thogh there are evil angels too--as we too often find to our dismay.)
I love your poem. It's very well-written & has a nice iambic pentameter rhythm. I also like my angels to be strong. Thank you very much for sharing it with us.
awesome
i love
poems
about angels :*).