AngelsA Poem by Celtore
The angels carry their child.
Even when she is sleeping she is wild. Flowers call her name. Her spirit always stays the same. Nature’s true beauty lies in those with purest hearts. Flying with the angels is your wondrous start. © 2010 Celtore |
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1 Review Added on March 3, 2010 Last Updated on March 3, 2010 |

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