A Month with Yeats. Day 4

Day 4 of a Month with Yeats. Prompt from Jane Dougherty Writes .

“…till the morning break  and the white hush end all but the loud beat of their long wings, the flash of their white feet.” W.B. Yeats.

Rules and Pingback Here

               Falling Angels

In the long hours from dusk till dawn

When the life threads grow thin

And unearthly fears take form

The angels  flutter and hide from sin.

As the embers of the fire die

And the shadows huddle close

The fallen angels can no longer fly

Regret is the path that they chose.

Fallen from grace and in pain

Like tears their white feathers rain

Their feet pale yet blood speckled

God’s words in their ears heckled.

Image Found at Pixabay

21 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. sarahsouthwest
    Nov 05, 2017 @ 06:30:48

    Oh, dark and sad.


  2. Ritu
    Nov 05, 2017 @ 07:05:45

    Deep and dark sis!


  3. tesscol
    Nov 05, 2017 @ 08:29:11



  4. Jane Dougherty
    Nov 05, 2017 @ 10:07:40

    You did angels too 🙂 But not the happy harp-strumming angels. Even they have their dark side.


  5. Judy E Martin
    Nov 05, 2017 @ 15:14:29

    Poor fallen angels. This is lovely Sis 💖💖


  6. JT Twissel
    Nov 05, 2017 @ 18:31:07

    Regret – always such a dark and yet universal feeling. Very poignant.


  7. Betty Hayes Albright
    Nov 05, 2017 @ 20:37:09

    A Gothic mood to this one! 💙


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