He came, like a touch upon the hand, With eyes a glorious green, So suddenly, it was hard to stand, Nothing but a face was all she’d seen. Standing tall, his head up high,
A glow, a fiery orange red Rose slowly through the skies Enveloping darkness, scattering dread While the world still sleeping lies Birds awakened by the morning light
Falling beads of awaited relief Like a blessing being showered down Slowly fades the wail of grief From a stressed and anxious town Sweet release from the bondage of routine life
