Warm Hands

She walked above the light of the bay
Hair blew the length of golden moon beams
That broke through the illuminated clouds
It was as if God sent His angel

She approached me and I fell asleep
Your warm hands on my cool face woke me
Your auburn hair silhouetting your face
I knew right then you was my angel

© 2011 Michael Yost

8 responses to “Warm Hands

  1. This poem paints a beautiful word picture, Michael.
    P.S. Take a visit to the Poets United site today.


  2. Such beautiful, romantic words 😀 xx


  3. divine imagery, well done…



  4. Brilliant imagery. You can truly see it in your mind’s eye.
    Perhaps “were” not “was” at the end? – sorry couldn’t help it.


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