The air is brisk, but refreshing to the touch. <br />I grasp it with my fingertips and let it get swept away. <br />I say, today, is not long enough. Too cold here <br />yet so beautiful. White like your wings, they take me away. <br /> <br />Golden horizon's and halo's to match <br />Sparkling with the sunset, as good as it gets <br />but it's so far away, so cold today. <br />Won't you rise up high and ascend with me. <br /> <br />The clouds they form a place as white as snow, <br />Am I here or must I go? I do not know. <br />Your wings are long and white as well <br />as we ascend into the white of bliss or cold.<br /><br />Moth Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/angels-48/
