Poems by Wendy Evans

All tucked up and snug in bed
as angels stand guard above your head,
Mommy will kiss away your fears.
She'll stroke your hair and dry your tears.

She softly sings a lullaby
about the stars up in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle star so bright,
shining down on us tonight.

Her breath is warm upon your face
as you lie still in her embrace.
With sleepy eyes you gaze at mom
as the moon comes up to replace the sun.

Tomorrow will be another day
where you'll have fun, laugh, and play.
But sleep for now, and Mommy will sing a song for you
and you will smile the whole way through.

She gently holds your hand in hers, your fingers wrapped around her thumb.
These are treasured moments as she waits for sleep to come.
Her voice is but a whisper now; her tone is soft and true,
for there is nowhere in the world she'd rather be than lying here with you.

Mother Earth, she weeps, but her tears are all in vain.
Men who seek profit and power will never feel guilt or shame.

What is happening to our world? Wake up and see what we have done.
The pollution that fills our air is now blocking out the sun.

We carelessly chop down our trees at such an alarming rate.
Nothing left to purify our air; is our existence left to fate?

Who will pollinate our plants when we kill off all the bees?
What will be left of our oceans when we contaminate all our seas?

Majestic animals that share our world, men track them down to kill,
Not for any particular purpose, they hunt them for the thrill.

Beautiful beasts that once roamed our lands free,
Reduced to decomposing carcasses hunted for a fee.

Our marine life is being poisoned by all our toxic waste.
Plastics dumped in mass for all our fish to taste.

Mountains of our garbage, in our oceans we do store,
Then watch in silence as the blood-drenched waves break angrily on the shore,

And with it, all the decaying corpses from once an abundant sea of the living,
A sea that kept us fed, a sea that kept on giving.

Without all these things, we cannot survive.
Each link has a purpose in the circle of life, and they keep us alive.

Our planet is our mother; we live in her womb.
She provides for all life; let's not make her our tomb.

There is this special place in Heaven that one day I will see.
It was built by an Angel, and she made it just for me.

She filled this place with happy thoughts, chapters of a life that have now passed,
Recording every joyful day, a keepsake created to last.

As an Angel, she came back from Heaven, a divinity from above
She embraced me in her magnificent wings and restored me with her love.

God had granted her a wish because her heart was truly breaking.
Her desire was to make me whole again, her own place in Heaven forsaking.

My Angel is always with me, the constant by my side.
A presence unseen by others, she is my conscience and my guide.

My Angel gives me courage and the strength to stand up tall.
She encourages me to have the resilience to rise above it all.

She carries me when I am weary; under her wings is where I will be.
We walk the path together, my Angel, my guardian and me.

My Angel has given me a new purpose; to help others I have vowed. 
I look toward my Angel and smile because I know I make her proud.

My Angel is one of a kind; she is an Angel like no other.
To me, she shines above the rest because this Angel is my mother.

Here I reside inside my head where devil and demons fear to tread.
I don't want to see the flaws in humanity, the greed and selfishness that test my sanity. 

In my mind there is a safe place I have created myself, away from the ugliness of war and those with ambition for wealth.
In my world there is no avarice there is no envy, people are kind and words never empty.

My imagination is the wall that I've built up around me, the limitless possibilities of life as it should be. A beautiful place, people filled with dignity and pride, congregating to celibate peace side by side. Children of men are tolerant and giving and have a passion in their hearts for a life that's worth living.

In my reality we are free from the chains of oppression, we embrace indifference and have no aggression. A place where people are not judged by the colour of their skin but by their morals and their compassion of their soul within.

The world outside is no place for some one like me.
In my own reality I have chosen to be.
Safe in my prison holding the key.

Living in a prison where I walk around free.
Trapped in this body that I refer to as me.

I pray to the creator as I look to the sky's.
Searching for the truth, lift the veil from my eyes.

This life I have lived through, in many different stages. Walking the path of time through numerous ages.

I question my purpose and why I am here.
I ask for enlightenment, for my path to become clear.

The history of our world taught, was it all just a lie. Have we been indoctrinated in to the system like a program AI.

Last night when I was weary an Angel came to me.
His was sent to be my guide, a trip he was asked to oversee.

The Angel had a calmness as he gently took my hand.
He told me not to be afraid, a journey for me he had planned.

The Angel spread his giant wings and wrapped me in his embrace.
And what only seemed like the blink of an eye we were transposed to another place.

We were standing in a garden, soft grass beneath my bare feet.
A cool breeze caressed my body, cooling me from the gentle heat

No words can describe the beauty of this place, a paradise beyond compare.
A masterpiece carefully constructed for a select few to share.

In the distance I herd a lady she was singing to the children as they gathered round.
They all seemed so happy as they sat, in a circle, holding hands on the ground.

The ladies voice sounded familiar as I started to grow near.
The song was one from my child hood, a memory I hold so dear.

I didn't feel out of place as I sat with the children and sang for a while.
I felt the joy in every note, I couldn't help but smile.

The Angel began to speak again, this time calling me by name.
I was brought here for a reason and he needed to explain.

This garden is a special place where broken people come to heal and realize their worth, for they all have suffered trauma whilst living their life on Earth.

God has made this Garden out of love in its purest form. He has made this garden for his children and all of his love he has sworn.

But on occasion souls are brought here for just a single day, when they feel there is no hope and wallow in despair, when life on earth becomes to heavy and hard for them to bare.

I was brought here by an Angel it was where I needed to be.
To remember how important I am to him, a gift from god to me.

Two skinny legs dangle from hand-me-down frocks.
Elastic bands holding up her socks.

Scuffed shoes upon her feet, so small they barely fit.
Water leaks through the crack where the sole had split. 

Her wheat coloured hair is pulled away from her face.
Tied back in a pony tail with a crimson lace.

Blush full lips hide a row of crooked teeth.
They are always on show when she opens her mouth to speak.

Dancing in front of the mirror, singing out loud.
She visualizes herself performing in front of a cheering crowd.

She imagined herself beautiful, her face on every magazine. 
Adored by millions as they watch her perform on the screen.

Believing in her dreams, she knew she would go far.
How determined she was to become a star.

Living out her fantasy, living out her dreams.
Is her world a better place now, things are not what they seem.

Now sitting on a flight from Paris to Milan, dressed in chiffon with a beautiful tan. 
Immaculate makeup graces her face. Smart and elegant, not a hair out of place. 

The flight attendant fusses around her as she flies first class.
Always on hand with champagne to fill her glass. 

Men flock round her like moths to a flame.
They don't really see her, they just want the fame.

She pushes her way through the crowd, a sea of faces calling her name.
Her freedom she has sacrificed, for the price of fame.

Money cars and diamond rings she understands now, they are just things.

Living out her fantasy, living out her dreams.
Is her world a better place now? Things are not what they seem

She realizes as a child she was rich all along singing into the mirror to her favourite song.
A home filled with love is riches beyond compare, familiar voices of laughter filling the air.

Living out her fantasy, living out her dreams.
Is her world a better place now? Things are not what they seem.

Living in her past is her only escape.
The fame machine has taken over and sealed her fate.

Living out her fantasy, living out her dreams. Is her world a better place now?
Things are not what they seem....

Many years have passed since she lay in my arms silent in sleep. Alive in my mind these memories I keep.
A beautiful child so precious so pure, this small being of light that I love and adore.

I look down at her and what do I see, those wondrous eyes stair right back at me.
How could I feel so much joy in my soul she filled my heart and made me whole.

This graceful child so amazing is she has yet to realise her importance to me.
The proudest of mothers I would be her guide. I look at her now and am bursting with pride.

All grown up a woman is she, beautiful and kind like I new she would be.
She enriched my life in so many ways, turning ordinary life into magical days.

My child my daughter we shall grow old with time, but know throughout life you will always be mine.

So awake every morning with each new day, live happy and long, these things I pray and when we grow old, together we shall be, reminiscing old times my daughter and me.

This wondrous child I will love like no other. The extraordinary joys of being a mother.