Communion

I felt the touch of angels,
Upon my head.
Small, lithesome figures,
Skipped around my bed.

Soft music floated o'er me,
In rhythm from above.
I knew the distant strumming,
Was only strains of love.

So restless...I was sleeping,
And breath could not endow.
And me with strength of conscience,
Had fever on my brow.

Night was slowly passing,
And dawn was just a beam.
A strange confusion on my mind,
Had left me in a dream.

It was a seance...beautiful,
That I was called to share.
The motion of the sanctified,
I felt their presence, there.


E.P. 1908 - 1989