The Dancing Angel
No one was in the church empty and bare
Only the jackdaws high in the air
High in the air and laughing so loud
Where grey stones soar above high white cloud.
And there in the church I brought my flower.
Pasque flowers for Easter that only grow
From blood of soldiers spilt long ago.
Purple and silver and mourning they go
Into the church tippy-toe, tippy-toe.
Nobody heard, nobody saw,
Nor bat, nor bird , nor laughing daw.
But I saw plain in the church alone.
An angel dancing on old grey stone.
A little gold angel, dancing so light,
Almost a fairy and yet not quite,
High in the tower I watched it rise,
Dancing like thousands of butterflies.
And there in the church, I laid my flower.
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