Poem
Brian Moses
A Feather from an Angel
A Feather from an Angel
A Feather from an Angel
Anton’s box of treasures helda silver key and a glassy stone,
a figurine made of polished bone
and a feather from an angel.
The figurine was from Borneo,
the stone from France or Italy,
the silver key was a mystery
but the feather came from an angel.
We might have believed him if he’d said
the feather fell from a bleached white crow
but he always replied, “It’s an angel’s, I know,
a feather from an angel.”
We might have believed him if he’d said,
“An albatross let the feather fall,”
But he had no doubt, no doubt at all,
his feather came from an angel.
“I thought I’d dreamt him one night,” he’d say,
“But in the morning I knew he’d been there;
he left a feather on my bedside chair,
a feather from an angel.”
And it seems that all my life I’ve looked
for that sort of belief that nothing could shift,
something simple yet precious as Anton’s gift,
a feather from an angel.
© 2005, Brian Moses
From: Taking Out the Tigers
Publisher: Macmillan, London
From: Taking Out the Tigers
Publisher: Macmillan, London
Brian Moses
(United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, 1950)
Brian Moses was the first real live children's poet I ever met. He visited the school where I was a teacher a long time ago – before my own career as a poet got underway. Brian was then, and is still, an inspiration to other writers and poets, as well as to children. He has been a professional children’s poet for 18 years and his enthusiasm for his craft is undimmed. To date, Brian has visited ...
Poems
Poems of Brian Moses
Close
A Feather from an Angel
Anton’s box of treasures helda silver key and a glassy stone,
a figurine made of polished bone
and a feather from an angel.
The figurine was from Borneo,
the stone from France or Italy,
the silver key was a mystery
but the feather came from an angel.
We might have believed him if he’d said
the feather fell from a bleached white crow
but he always replied, “It’s an angel’s, I know,
a feather from an angel.”
We might have believed him if he’d said,
“An albatross let the feather fall,”
But he had no doubt, no doubt at all,
his feather came from an angel.
“I thought I’d dreamt him one night,” he’d say,
“But in the morning I knew he’d been there;
he left a feather on my bedside chair,
a feather from an angel.”
And it seems that all my life I’ve looked
for that sort of belief that nothing could shift,
something simple yet precious as Anton’s gift,
a feather from an angel.
From: Taking Out the Tigers
A Feather from an Angel
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère