Angel in a Silver Dress

My flute
As delicate as a small plant’s root
It’s taste, bitter and cold
yet memories stay, as bright as gold
in rough times it would stay
as strong as moonlights ray
if I ever lost this angel in a silver dress
there I would stay, in the bareness of stress
If the world brings sorrow
My flute would remain beautifully hollow
ready for the next, rhythmic tune
my flute would croon
and fly
through the night sky
riding the wings of music