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Touched By An Angel



Lost at a time

when written dreams were

fiction in pen and hand

my heart still beating

long, in the past

of Belmont Avenue.



Twenty five years of history classes

still in the first grade.

Passing became an out

never an in-theory

that I would rise above

the ashes that born asunder

but then,

she touched me.



My words became hers,

taking my heart and holding it

in the caress of her silky sleeve,

where she held hers

for tears, I never knew I had.



Now my words have night

my heart can soar with passion

with truths of a lost heartspen

dreams are real,

wrapped in the arms

of her tender mercies.



Brian Glenn 12-24-04