AN ANGEL

When that day she swished the curtain,
Abruptly appeared, an angel, certain.
Like an un-played, High-E guitar-string.
When suddenly,
A thousand swans began to sing.

What a being and what presence,
To arouse passions, so immense,
That all the senses lost their sense;
In her aura, bright and intense.
The desire of melting with her froze,
Poetry just fused with prose.

On that balmy September noon,
God said, Amen!
And gave the boon.
When this angel came from afar
And I played the most divine melody
On the taut and tuned
High-E string of
An un-played Guitar.


(P.S. Now step aside and
Let me please.
Say Thank you God!
For major mercies).

~Glow Worm~