I dreamed that my Angel walked with me And we talked at length A gentle discourse about books, music and coffee And on the hill beneath the spire We explored each other shyly Espousing our thoughts in their entirety And we kissed each other meekly Thinking how wonderful this could be Stomachs churning with dancing butterflies Wondering if a love so true could lie I dreamed that my Angel walked with me But it was just a dream And dreams belong to sleep Continue reading Angel. A poem.