Pierre

Pierre

Close my eyes, breathe you in
The sound of your voice in dreams
Starlight does not compare to your eyes
The gentle tumble of thunder in your voice
I ache for you as a flower thirsts for spring
Loving you as much as I draw breath

Without you I don't know where I am
A stranger to myself without your love
My arms are yours to fall always inside of
Within them the tenderness of angel wings
The kiss of someone I've always kissed
Love as brilliant as an exploding star

Your eyes lost gazing inside of my own
My heart is forever home in your embrace
We are as one joined as a beautiful miracle
I reach for you to hold me in our slumber
You are every nuance of my existence
Love beyond the reach of death to heaven

(C)Angel Hart Poetry
November 29, 2011

Sleep Tight

Sleep Tight


I wish I were your blanket keeping out this winters chill
Snuggled against your body as you sleep peacefully still
I'd tuck around you softly while you were fast asleep
Longing to be inside of each secret dream you keep


If I could be your blanket I would always keep you warm
Covering you from head to toe to keep you safe from harm
I would feel like downy wings brushed against your skin
Wrapping you in sweetest dreams not letting bad ones in


I wish I were your soft pillow to gently cradle your head
I long to be your mattress so that I can share your bed
I'd love to be the stars that twinkle through your night
The sun that slants across your cheek at first break of light


A mantle much like the snow against your windowpane
Keep you from the elements when clouds spare their rain
I guess you are my daydream the dream I long most for
To be as close as your blanket if you cannot offer more


(C)Tuesday, November 29, 2011
~ Angel Hart Poetry ~

Things that remain with you for a reason.

When I was a little girl besides being spoken to the next thing I remember most is music being sung to me or played for me. I thought singing was the gift of angels that everyone could magically do. I would hum and sing with anything I heard. When I started school the teacher in grade school at age five had a piano that she played and we all sang along. It sounded like a miracle for me to have a place where we did this every day. Moving on I heard that we had chorus in school but you had to try out alone. I was terrified but I thought if this is what I have to do to sing then it was worth the terror to be picked. I thought I guess they do not have the space for an entire school to sing together so we would be all put in groups like a class in the end. The song was "this land is your land" I got through a few lines and discovered by my not being picked that alas we are all not songbirds in life. I was disappointed but it never stopped me from caring about singing along with any song or artist I felt something in me stir for. Someplace between heart and song my pen and blank page became my song. I was meant to hear music and think it angels as a child because it inspired within me the need to write things that like music people would hopefully find beautiful. My journey might have felt like a child's let down but in truth it made me ache to want to maybe touch someone else's heart the way in which music has always touched mine. So I write poetry, short stories, mostly about love. Much of what I write is taken from the inspiration of every musician I meet. Sometimes the people who inspire me turn out to be amazing gifts angels who remain in my heart always in every word I write for their part in my words. Some of my words come from something as amazing as friendships and other times as tiny as the fragment of a piece of sunlight or moonlight slanting through my bedroom window across my face. I have come to know one thing for sure though and that is that I might not have the ability to sing like an angel but I know I am surrounded by them both mortal and otherworldly and for this I am eternally thankful. I wrote once asking God why I could not find the perfect words to make me a millionaire until I realized one day how rich I was in the gift to share my heart openly with whomever wanted to read my words. I only need to know I have perhaps touched the spirit of one person to leave this life one day contented. Thank you God and this beautiful ebb and flow of the universe and everything in it from which I draw my words, for allowing me these words that I write and this gift to share them.

Gloria
xoxo