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Angels live at our house,
Tho you may think it odd.
I guess they're tiny ambassadors,
Sent here to me from above.
They don't resemble angels,
In the usual accepted way.
No harps, no halos, no wings,
Heavenly attire unseen.
No classic noble features,
They each have smushed up faces.
And oatmeal on their chubby cheeks.
Oh my gnd their so adorable,
Everywhere you look you'll find,
Evidence of their presence.
Shredded paper, chewed up handles,
Toys scattered everywhere.
They bark & tend to get noisy,
They will steal your heart.
Eat fruit by the handful,
Curl into furry balls to sleep.
The noise dirt and trouble,
Can be misleading at the least.
As their tiny invisible halos,
Go sliding off their heads.
And yet I know they are angels,
They are not fooling me a bit.
A million things betray them,
In spite of their cute disguises.
I see their angelic innocence,
Shining in their big brown eyes.
I hear it in their yaps so sweet,
As they run and play.
I feel them in my heart,
I feel it in their kisses.
I feel it in their presence,
All around me it shows.
I'm very aware when they are near,
Of the magic charm of heaven.
And this is why I'm so sure,
That tiny angels are living here.

Spooky Raven

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