Dreams of the angel are
softer than the caress of a
feather.
It turns around in million of
ways leaving you unsatisfied
for a while. When the tiny
feather touches you hair
you feel it.
It will touch your eyelashes
making you blink a few times.
The tip of the feather will touch
your button nose and steal a
sneeze but the angel will laugh,
giggling for a time.
Our little angel tries to grab the
feather to no avail, it is faster than
the wind, gentler than the early
breeze. It dances around, it falls
to the ground, it goes up again
spinning for a while.
Our friendly little angel just tires,
closes it's eyes and on a soft
swish of the feather just falls
in the dreamy land.
Sleep little one don't let anyone
disturb you peace....
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