Facing my own demons

adoption, adoption loss, life,

What wings are for…

If, that I had wings,

Fluttering in the cool morning breeze;

Not to take flight,

Would they be.

For flight is reserved

For the Angels that rest at my side.

But for comfort,

Would my wings be.

Soft as silk,

Made from Heaven spun.

Wrap around my cold arms;

With warmth, they would be.

If, that I had wings,

Softly fluttering in the wind;

Pushing away the Pain,

That these Angels can not remove.



  1. This is so beautiful, Sheri. I like your poem.

    Love, Kel

    Comment by Kelly | August 25, 2006 | Reply

  2. I like your poem too.

    Comment by kim.kim | August 26, 2006 | Reply

  3. wwwwwwweeeeeeee

    Comment by jonathan | September 23, 2006 | Reply

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