I was visited by an Angel yesterday afternoon. Not as you might expect, not dressed in a flowing, white gown No visible halo Wings discreetly folded in the small, grey rucksack On his back. He asked for me by name And tho' we'd never met before I knew him instantly And greeted him with a smile. Which he returned as we exchanged greetings. And then the most wondrous thing happened, He reached into his back pack And I thought, just for a moment, I might glimpse those glorious wings In anticipation, I leaned closer, O to view the transportation of a messenger from on high! But he reached into his bag and handed me something only Angels such as he are tasked to give, And gently spoke that modern Angels find it swifter to convey their messages By smart or Apple phones. Eve was onto a winner when she picked that fruit! He handed me two small flat objects And with a swift and deft touch connected me once more to the World. Do Angels have names any more? I asked him. He looked bemused; I am <REDACTED> of the <REDACTED>, he answered. If this does not work try the other And failing that Call the Angel helpline, that's IT! I thanked him there and then And in a moment he was gone My Angel
