The Angel And The Boy

On a sunny day, in a sunny sky
sat an Angel, watching, as clouds drifted by
With wings as soft as morning mist
And a gentle touch, like a mothers’ kiss

And soon this angel heard a sound
A calling-out rose from the ground
A child’s voice, so small and sad
for this little soul had lost his Dad

The angel spread magestic wings
and circled down through foggy rings
of cloud and rainbows, ’til was found
the small child, resting on the ground

The angel touched his shoulder, soft
and told him he’d been heard aloft
and asked the child, “why do you cry,
when you father’s so close by?”

The child blinked, tears rolling down
“But he has died, he’s NOT around!”
and angry as a child can be
he shouted “JUST YOU LET ME BE!”

In a little while was heard
a gentle calling of a bird
and for a moment tears were gone
as the child listened to it’s song

The angels spoke with endless love,
as the two together watched the dove
“You know, he hears you every day.
Your father’s near, not far away.”

He hears you when you’re feeling sad
He hears you when you’re feeling glad
Though you can’t see him, he is here
Right there beside you, standing near.

The child looked up. Could it be true?
I feel him sometimes, yes…i do.
Sometimes i think i hear him say
he’s with me every single day".

The angel nodded with a smile.
“now close your eyes a little while,
and think of your father, hands and face.
His laughter…that’s a special place.

A place where you yourself can go
whenever you are feeling low.
Hear him talk to you each day,
and surely sadness goes away."

The child’s eyes were tightly closed,
as the angel gently rose
“I see him! And a hear him too!
he’s telling me some things to do!

He says he wishes he could be
right here beside me so i’d see
that he is with me, not gone away,
and we should talk…every day.

He says that i can tell him all,
if i need someone to call.
Any problems i might face,
I can visit our special place.

And there we can just sit and talk.
Or maybe we could go and walk.
All I’ll do is close my eyes
and picture him inside my mind."

The child’s eyes now opened wide,
as he breathed in and gave a sigh.
The angel knew the work was done,
and it was time to carry on.

With wings spread wide, and arms held high,
the angel rose into the sky.
The clouds, now crimson, gold and long,
were silent, but for one small song.

The dove, now flying on her way,
sang her last song for the day.
She found her tree, her branch her nest,
and there she bedded for some rest.

And looking at the sunset, grand,
she watched the splendid sight at hand.
Hundred’s of angels passing by,
to their places in the sky.

The Angel And The Boy

Tania Rose

SYDNEY, Australia

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Artist's Description

a children’s story about faith and hope after loss

Artwork Comments

  • Paul Vanzella
  • Tania Rose
  • Anthony Mancuso
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