The Angel that missed the last bus into town

The Angel that missed the last bus into town long poem

Photo by K.Hurley

The angel had missed the last bus into town
Her wings were all rain wet and she felt so down
Until in a shop doorway a Saint sheltered there
While he whistled a psalm and he sang the Lords Prayer,
So she stopped and remembered the way she had came
As she dried herself off in the Lord’s Holy flame,
Then she took to the air and she whispered away
To those morning song Matins that touched a new day.

The angel was wrapped in her morning mist shade
Though her eyes mirrored heaven, she still was dismayed,
For how had she got lost on her way to her church
Until then she had never had reason to search,
Then she thought of a hymn that she always could hold
To warm all of the reasons that kept out the cold,
And her halo glowed gold in the soft rising dawn
As she thought once again of a glorious newborn.

The angel’s smile glowed and it melted the mist
As she thought of the holiness her lips had kissed,
She flew over a school where the young children played
And she thought of the difference her saviour had made,
As she flew through a meadow its fragrance was sweet
So she came down to earth and felt once more complete
In her floral magnificence she dressed again
No need to be lost or afraid of the rain…

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Keith


Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I am an elderly gnome who loves reading and particularly writing poetry, I live in a cottage on the North Yorkshire coast in England.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

1 Comment on "The Angel that missed the last bus into town"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest

Keith your poem is so cinematic….The country side. The wispy mist…. so much more. I can see it all. Lovely!


Twisted Angel

Twisted Angel short poem

She is like the vastness of the earth, so confusing, Her beauty is fatal, her heart fierce, her body delicious, Many not withholding, in love Cause it’s a battle worth fighting for, She is the Angel their mom said to

The Last Guardian

The Last Guardian long poem

I don’t know who gave me the ability to take another life. And is one life worth another? Is it OK to take a life to save another? If that isn’t my decision to make then whose is it? And

An Angel

An Angel ode

Fine is the wine drops from your lips; To dance and to sing, I hold your hips; Sugary bread we eat is from your oven, An angel appeared now she is from heaven. Knowing nothing new on loving trends, Forget

Bus Rides And Ordeals

Bus Rides And Ordeals prose poem

BUS RiDES AND ORDEALS It’s the long rides from the small towns to the city. The mesmerizing sceneries of the trip taking the bus on the uneven roads, Sometimes,unpaved with no asphalt and the road lay carpeted with small rocks

The Last Goodbye

The Last Goodbye long poem

the winds are becoming numbing needles to my skin again. the whistling of the night is entering the day covering up the sun to my happiness. the bullying was a distant memory from my mind now fresh to my soul.