Wednesday, June 16, 2010

unwanted by the world
but cradled by a cove of ceaseless care
the faith I find in Gabriel’s lair
as I fall asleep
I think in him, of his black hair
then I come to knowing
our minds as a magnetized pair
and once again he’s there, he’s there
in blameless humility
we meet in this place
of lucid stillness and civility
in his eyes I see blue flares of chivalry
the last traces of a fairytale nobility
black are his clothes
he always tells me he's old
but he's an ageless, rare mold
I could smell the smooth leather on his soul
I know not my the colors of my own
or what shade God made such grace
but I’m sure his reluctant presence
always illuminates my face
like a shiny red balloon

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