Earth Angel

An angel mowed
my lawn today,
wings did not show,
harps did not play.

Another one
peddled downtown.
No royal son,
no halo crown.

An angel sang
outside for tips,
all hearts felt pangs
yet money skipped.

Another one
was all alone,
helped everyone
but still unknown.

An angel clutched
my soul today,
my life was touched
in every way.

They walk with us
not standing out,
without a fuss,
without a shout.

– Grace Y. Estevez- Reddy

Pure

Consistent kindness.
Provoking acts of good deeds.
Everyday angels.

– Grace Y. Estevez- Reddy

Stare

Your eyes shout loud, with silent words,
making all logic seem absurd,
your clear message I have now heard.
fluttering by, like a sweet bird
.

Your eyes wear hidden, unseen smiles,
a mesmerizing, aloof style.
Lost hopes and thoughts create a pile,
I analyze you for a while.

Your eyes both carry a still dance,
guiding me swiftly into a trance,
forcing my will to take a chance,
I slip and fall hitting romance
.

Your eyes then make me feel at ease,
their light and wisdom turn my key,
angel wings unfold, expand free,
feathery dance within the breeze.

Your eyes give me my full control,
help me escape out of this mold,
feeling complete, finally whole,
soft lullabies play from our soul
.

– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

Iris

Mauve colored filled dreams
haunt my distant mind,
soothing the pressures
encaged deep inside
.

Lavender flowers
hold lilac bouquets,
tied intricate knot
secures this display
.

Iris enhancements,
perfumed by your hues.
Purple winged angel,
garland made for you
.

Free amethyst thoughts
that shine in the sky,
in my heart you lay,
reading with my eyes
.

Magenta now leads,
with no lie unseen.
At peace with knowing
you live within me
.


– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

Angel

Composed of white light,
guardian of my dreams.
Protecting my nights,
while calming my screams.
Owner of my heart,
with abilities
to create fine art,
reliving each scene
.

He whines back the hour
in any wound clock,
then proves his powers,
destroying all locks.
To fix it again,
all effortlessly,
while clicking a pen
so consistently.

Teaches me to paint
a transparent smile,
releasing restraints
with genuine style.
He wears many wounds
from battles with life,
resembles the moon,
builds towers from strife.


Together we climb,
he sews me some wings
with silk thread and vines,
close our eyes and fling.
I learn how to fly,
secure by his side,
floating past the sky,
he cures me inside.

– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

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