I see us in my mind's eye,
The four of us together,
Like a quartet of shining angels,
Branded in my memory forever.

The first hovers above us,
Huge white wings spread wide
Over the rest of us protectively,
Drawing us to her side.

She wears a queenly gown,
And there are many rings upon her fingers.
There's a loving smile on her face,
But in her eyes the sadness lingers.

The second stand slightly hunched,
And wears clothes of lordly look.
His black wings are pulled about him,
Shielding him like a cloak.

His face is set in a frown,
As if remembering past pains.
His eyes are melancholy,
As if expecting much the same.

The third stands straight and tall,
And wears clean peasant clothes.
His face is somehow sorrowful,
But in his eyes shines hope.

His wings are spread about him,
And give off a blinding light.
This light reveals his purity,
And the innocence in life.

Though his wings may shine,
He is shrouded in a mist.
The world with all its taint
Seeks to steal that light from him.

The fourth crouches beside the third,
Leaning for support against him.
He wears the garb of the Highway Man,
And on his hand a single ring.

His wings are tarnished silver,
The feathers battered and awry;
Reflections of the pain he's felt
In all the years gone by.

This angel looks exhausted,
And his face is full of strain.
His eyes show love for hope and joy
That may somehow ease the pain.

Each angel has their place,
And if that place they were to leave
The picture would lose its radiance,
As well as a vital piece.

My picture is complete,
And to see it makes me smile.
I know my band of angels
Will watch over me a while.