But, I met an angel named Shirley.
They don’t wear wings, you know.
Impractical indoors. Hard to fit under a winter coat. Showy.
Too many feathers ruffled already.
Or halos.
Lord knows we have enough of those.
Sensible shoes? You bet.
Got to keep their footing sure.
Craig or Suzanne might play a little trumpet, but only in the municipal band.
And none of them want to wrestle, ok?
It’s code blue in the ICU,
and there are sacred jobs to do.