Gliding through the rafters
the notes rang pure and fair.
Her voice was as an angel’s
floating on the chapel air.
A sound so sweet and wondrous,
reaching deeply to my soul,
sailing to the firmament
calling seraph’s bells to toll.
Unknown to her my rapture,
she tugged upon my heart,
thus I was her instrument,
baptized in lyric art.
I loved without exception
and cherished every tone,
and held them deep within
as if they were my own.
The room became her harp,
stone her celestial stage,
surely the sound in heaven
when an angel comes of age.
Upon hearing Kristi sing April 29, 2009
About Me
- Cheryl Earles
- I inherited the love of music and history from my father and my artistic abilities from my mother. I had a love affair with words from the day I discovered the word Periwinkle - I deemed it the most precious crayon in the box and wouldn’t color with it for fear of destroying its pristine appearance. I cherished every lofty word I came across and used them to create a world that was far, far away from my mundane, every day life in the small town of Bridge City, Texas. The rest can be read under the post titled The Dawning of a Wordsmith. I am also a foodie. Look me up on travelingtines.blogspot.com
