THE CHRISTMAS ANGEL

 

A soft hush descends around the world

As thoughts and dreams of toys, and games, and candy,

And all things nice,

Swirl and rise into the starlit sky.

 

But there are children whose hopes and dreams

Would draw a tear from you and I.

So if you would be so kind as to indulge me

For a short period of time tonight,

I would like to share some of the most precious dreams of all.

For these are the prayers I witnessed this night.

 

"Please God hear my prayer"

Could I have a nice warm blanket?

To cuddle me to sleep tonight.

I need a place that is safe and quiet,

Loving arms to hold me tight,

And gentle Kisses to caress my bruises.

A place free of land minds and bullets.

A roof to keep me dry at night.

A friend to keep me company through the day,

And to love me like I would them.

A place of sanctuary just for a night,

That I may fill my belly with something warm and tasty.

An arm to hold on too, so I don't fall.

And please may there be someone just once in my life that will say

I CARE.

 

As time stood still for a few moments,

A golden light descended over my room,

Bathing it in Love and Peace,

Where time and space did not exist,

As a pair of beautiful eyes looked into mine,

I heard her sweet and gentle voice,

Asking this of me.....

 

Will you give them this message?

Tell them to put out prayers for all those children

That are lost and alone.

Tell them to send out their thoughts of love,

That I may gather them up to take them to the children.

For on Christmas night, I visit each and every one of those children,

I open each heart and leave your gift of prayers and love,

And then I seal it with a kiss.

 

And so I have done my job this night,

All that is left for me to do, is to gift you all with a Blessing from,

Your Christmas Angel,

 

"May the warm winds of Love and Peace blow gently

Upon your homes this eventide".

 

© A. Clarke  

 

 

 

 

WINTER

 

Its that time of year when

Mother Earth sleeps and dreams

A time for going within

Touching that quiet and silent place

We all hold deep inside.

 

Its that time of year when

Frosts and snow brings rosy cheeks

With bright red noses

But only a smile gifted to another

Brings warmth and cheer to a lonely heart.

 

Its that time of year when

Loved ones and friends we each hold dear

Are remembered and blessed

In our thoughts and prayers

For the most precious gift

That we all have to share

Is what we hold within our hearts.

 

Its that time of year when...

gentle hands can reach out to one another

In a warm and caring embrace that say's

I CARE!

and...

You Are Most Welcome Here!

 

© Ali C.

 Better late than never...below is my gift for Be and Drew and for all Enchanted Folk  that reside here.....

HEAR MY SILENT PRAYER...

Observe with your eyes

Listen with your ears

But seek to understand through your hearts

The mysteries that can only be felt

Through a sacred place of refuge

Found within the heart-space

Where your soul dances

To a never-ending beat of Compassion and Love.

 

Hear my silent prayer

As I ask for this circle of light

To embrace this meeting place

Where a gathering of different cultures and nations

Will meet with respect for one another

Whereby they will learn to listen to one another...

Without prejudice

Try and understand one another...

Without judgement.

 

Hear my silent prayer

For all those that are lead here

In order that this circle of light

May grow in beauty

A dawn of a new age

Time for new beginnings

Where we learn to talk from the heart...

And not from a place of ego.

 

Hear my silent prayer

That this multi-faceted circle of friends

Both seen and unseen

Reach out to one another with care 

Allowing the dove of peace

To touch us with her soft white feathers

Thus turning our circle slowly and gently

That we may dance as one

To the never resting heartbeat of compassion and love.

 Namaste

 © Ali Clarke

 

 

Forever to be a memory of a moment in time,

For once the moment has passed,

It can never be captured again,

As time moves forward

Leaving the moment behind,

Except for the briefest glimpse of its totality

Held within the colours of a photograph.

But has the photo captured the beginning or the end?

 

Does it speak the truth or hold a lie?

A poem in picture form,

For it has many layers

That can touch each individual

In many different ways,

Depending on their perspective of a truth.

Laying bare the ugliness of life

To the beauty and richness of life.

 

But where does beauty lie?

In a wizened, wrinkled face of the crone

Whose eyes hold the nurturing wisdom of life?

Or in a flawless face

That hides a heart as cold as ice?

Is it perfection that holds beauty,

As in the Cornflower blue that grows in spring meadows?

 

A photo speaks of power!

But does power lie...

In man made skyscrapers and dams?

Or does power lie with the slow flowing stream

Quenching the thirst of Mother Earth's children?

Is power in space ships flying to the moon?

Or in an active volcano reminding us of our own mortality?

 

Does the truth of a photo

Lie within the wisdom of the eyes that behold it?

A picture can capture a thousand words

And could tell you many a story,

But has it captured the beginning or the end?

 

© A. Clarke

Heavens! its been a while since posting here. Life has given me a lot to deal with over the last few months and it hasn't finished with me yet {{chuckle}}. Have been reading posts though and became aware of a lady who lost a Grandchild. If she doesn't see this maybe someone could pass it on to her...as I hope the poem below might be of some comfort for her , and to others who have lost babies.

It was written upon my research into the meaning of animal spirit guides, as both the Celts and some Native American peoples, shared the same belief concerning the spirit of the Swan. Please except my healing Blessings that come with this Prayer/poem

THE SWAN MAIDEN

As each new babe is born,

She wraps her gentle cloak

Of soft white feathers

Around each tiny form.

Secure in her embrace,

Each child listens,

To the gentle Heartbeat

Of life's beating drum.

Secure in her embrace,

She breathes her gentle breath

Upon each tiny form,

A sacred gift of Spirit,

For each child is special,

Each child is unique.

And when the time is right,

Each will claim its sacred spirit

And step into the light.

And if by chance

A life upon this material plane

Is not meant to be,

The babe is placed upon her back

And safely taken home.

Where Angel's hands

And Angel's wings are waiting,

To gently cradle each tiny form,

And shower them with Angel's kisses

To welcome them back home.

© Ali Clarke