One night when heartbreak came to him an angel came to ground,

“I want to put a band-aid on your heart,” came the sweetest sound,

She was the angel he had known years ago while fighting in a war,

Memories of her came flooding back as he prayed for one day more,

So tender was her hand as she prayed he’d fight for will to remain,

As teardrops fell she reached for him as true love began to reign,

Love took command of two hearts as she appeared in his sight,

Wondering still was she real while holding her tender frame tight,

So often his hands had felt her back wondering where are the wings,

He swore that when she appeared to him he saw the strangest things,

The sky would have a glow he thought from heaven or was it of her,

It must be of her he surmised, as he felt her love make his heart stir,

Apparitions he had known since but a boy of eight or nearly so,

One day upon a trip to his aunt where the winds are known to blow,

The Virgin Mary stood floating in air in front of red roses climbing high,

And she showed him an angel of his future that no heart could deny,

Love’s purity entered into this tiny boy’s heart and delighted frame,

Telling others of the visions they scoffed and gave youth the blame,

To be rebuffed hurt this loving boy but his aunt held him while she said,

“I believe you honey” to bond them deep within his heart and his head,

Times passing often heard him say I will be married to a beautiful girl,

My goal in life is to marry she so beautiful that is precious like a pearl,

Her heart is made to love only me he said and we will love at first sight,

His mother became upset at such paltry goals bringing mother’s slight,

When eighteen he came running in and said his angel was finally found,

I just know it’s her I have no doubt he said to everyone he saw around,

Oh how he loved this girl so deep within his heart her image would dwell,

In a future unknown he would see her when war’s dangers would swell,

His first vision of her essence form or perhaps was it two souls uniting,

He remembers leaving his body when exhausted to leave war’s fighting,

In her bedroom he stood as she held him tight against naked flesh,

He had projected before but never had he felt the sensation of a mesh,

Love of the purist form is when eyes dwell within the soul of their mate,

How could such happen when it was upon first sight they could relate,

But true was his heart as he knew what he felt and who she would be,

He once told friends that someday she would appear and save me,

Dreams brought predictions of life’s cessation for kin or friends,

He prayed asking God to remove the knowledge of when life ends,

Yet remained his ability to see or feel within others at different times,

And he saw into her once, she was of purity and sweet nursery rhymes,

His angel, his light at troubles end would guide him through war,

The draft returned a spent man that was not the boy of before,

What once was gold was now of rusted metal with hardened heart,

So brutally treated when detained that shock therapy tore him apart,

He remembered her well as the angel that came to his dirty cell,

Pressing her energy into his chest in hopes that death he would repel,

He said goodbye to his angel of starlight one morning inside his head,

The jolt of electricity overwhelmed his brain leaving memories dead,

Near a zombie unable to move but to sit and drool a teardrop fell,

There before his unfocused eyes the Angel of Starlight did dwell,

His still swollen face smiled for a moment though his face resisted,

She was of his unhealthy mind and told forget her, doctor’s insisted,

He quietly reveled inside his heart as each night star began to shine,

He never told them of her return as he was being discharged sometime,

An honorable discharge that was earned on waring and enemy soil,

He planned to reunite with her physical form and for her he would toil,

The little girl of fourteen was now a beautiful woman of eighteen,

Still the same angelic face but definitely the Angel he had seen,

Fear crept within his soul that perhaps the doctors knew best,

What if she had married in his absence and he failed times test,

Perhaps my angels apparition was from my head although seen,

Protestors rage, combat, and mistreatment left him weak and lean,

Broken by treatment from America’s youth and protestors rage,

He’d pull her picture from his wallet as his only relief at this stage,

Finally home but moving away, fear kept him far from her front door,

He had prayed but somehow he felt his flame fading from before,

In need of his angels form he had prayed to see her just once more,

As she always had she found him to reunite and meld at his front door.  

The end, by Pat for Patti. I love my little angel.