GOLDEN WINGS UPON BROKEN THINGS

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Like an angel, she,
sailing upon God's breath,
blown my way by serendipity,
when little hope was left,
that I would ever see,
such a vision blessed,
until she came to me,
to give my heart hopes rest.
O Sweet Mother Mary.

Like a goddess true,
sent from heavens crest,
glittered in a golden hue,
on divinities hand at rest.
She, a precious queen,
so I'll hold her near to me,
like forever she's a dream,
the most glorious I could ever see.
O My Sweet Mother Mary.

She was an angel sent to me,
upon the wings of a golden being sent,
from higher up than I could ever be,
she was for me forever meant.
Destiny was her name,
she was the only one for me,
healing hopelessness was her endless aim,
so I rested on her bed for an eternity.
O Sweet, Sweet Mother Mary.

Like a summers gentle breeze,
she is to me so ever pleasing.
Like heavens flowers gentle release
of their eternal scent, forever teasing.
Of glory songs in heaven playing,
of the light turning golden once again from greying.
When to the clouds above, to her calling, swaying,
I am lulled, like from a banshee's wailing!
I shall come to Thee, my Sweet Mother Mary.



© 2024 Shoestring Shane

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