On angels wings

On angels wings,
she lifts me up as she sings,
my love,
my love who stands before me,
and it is as if a dream,
with her voice a honey covered sweet glorious thing,
that stirs my soul,
and oh, how her voice it does beguile me,
and how it does so mesmerise,
and wake me as if the sun in the morning light,
oh, my love,
and oh, the songs that she sings,
and what wonder she brings,
and such magic,
and light,
light so bright in the reflections of my eyes,
as she sings to me so gloriously,
and she lifts me up with her joyful delights,
and as she does,
with all the notes that she sings and all the songs that to me from her heart she brings,
heaven is before me and in my eyes,
with songs that inspire my heart,
and as I listen,
how I rise,
how I rise up out of the darkness and into light,
rejuvenated,
fascinated and captivated,
as if she had brought heaven down from the skies.

No Profile, Writing and poetry
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Hello, I am Ben Robinson, a poet, my first book of poetry Alas the day was written in Dorset, in the United Kingdom.

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