The angel sat upon her heavenly roost Tearful ideas passing though her head She looked upon the earth below Forever wishing she were not dead Below a tiny speck walks along the street His head is bowed and low And his heart always yearning for his loved one Whom left him not long ago Time will continue to pass on And his heart will try to mend But no matter what he does The bond that was will not bend. ©1998 Torin Abalister Back To Poetry This page hosted by Geocities