My angel

An angel of perfect proportions
fallen from grace
yet her dirty face cannot disguise
wings of gossamer feathers
sheltering all who sought comfort
in her embrace
her voice like a balm on festering wounds
soothed the hurts 0f the battered and the bruised
her heart spun of gold
bore no judgment on others
yet her burdens she carried
with graceful dignity and quiet courage
while we mere mortals can only bow our heads
in prayer
that our angel of perfect proportions
can find her way back to
heavens embrace