Fields of Poetry

I don't know how to love him
What to do, how to move him
I've been changed. Yes, really changed
In these past few days when I've seen myself
I seem like someone else . . .

Friday, June 24, 2011

The Name of My Angel

I have wanted to draw him for a long time. I finally did it!

My angel guards me day and night
he glows with white and shim'ring light
his long and flowing beard they spread 
down to his knees;   
Or were they indeed his knees . . . ?
My angel soothes me when I'm tense
he builds a shield for my defense
against deleterious clout and verve;
My angel he can calm my nerves.

My angel, he be old and wise
with smoke that trails from his ancient pipe.
I love him for his good advice,
his guidance and his artifice.

I wish I knew, I wish he'd tell
the name he bore with him as well
that I may call him as a friend
from now till Death shall meet my end.


-Phamiel

2 comments:

  1. I have to have admit that the picture you can't really forget easily- specially those eye and attitude-

    Great work- :)

    ReplyDelete