Processional

Mary Naylor  confirmed
In the darkness of the noiseless night,

Deep in blackness, with no sliver of light,

Radiant angels appear in the sky,

Heads bowed, hands clasped, angels on high!

They travel to the beds of the sick,

Eyes turned to heaven, in holiness rich,

Hands folded, arms outstretched, heads lifted high,

"My God to Thee we pray, to Thee we cry,

These, your children, in grave illness lie.

In weakness they moan, and in pain, they sigh.

Heal them Holy Savior! Lord, bring them peace!

Please cover them with Your love, as they sleep."

A bright angel takes a child's hand to hold.

"Son," he asks, "Do you know it's time to go?"

The boy just smiles because he trusts him so.

The angel lifts him to his shoulder so he can see below.

Softly, as the sun sets the sky on fire,

There rises the sound of a heavenly choir.

Radiant angels appear in the sky,

Heads bowed, hands clasped, angels on high!

Published by Mary Naylor confirmed

I was born in Chicago, Illinois in 1933. I grew up in Rhinelander, Wisconsin, a wild and beautiful state, rich in literature and lore. I loved the stories of Paul Bunyon and his ox, Babe. The hoax of t...  View profile

2 Comments

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  • 3lilangels9/14/2008

    SOOOOOOOOOOOOO PRETTY!

  • Lisa Renee.9/9/2008

    Very pretty!

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