When the sun slips into the west
And the stars shine their light
In the darkest hour of the night
Angels arise weaving through every nest
For who else makes the dark bright
Spreading warmth, though not in sight
They visit the lands to do their best
Spreading hope and weaving dreams
Sprinkling into souls compassion and joy
Singing like cuckoos, dancing like dolls
But no one sees them soothing our screams
Fondly loving each girl and boy
But disappear quietly when dawn falls…
January, 2025
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