A Dusty Book on the Shelf

A dusty book sits on the shelf,
It's old, it's weathered and unread,
there are several pages bookmarked,
from over the years,
tear stained, tears of pain
tears of joy, tears from angels in heaven
no more tears, no more pain,
the book sits silently, it's voice
once an operatic mezzo soprano vocalization,
I could still hear her voice on the radio
"Hello... I love you... god bless you ... goodbye"
an early song of inspiration, beauty and grace,
never to be heard again,
except for the words in a Dusty Book on the Shelf.
Words from god, the angels in heaven
and the choir that sings along with Gabriel.

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This is a poem about a prayer book that I have that belonged to my mother, It's one of the few possessions I've got after her passing. She was truly a child of god, giving her life her love and devotion to the lord, especially with her voice. She wrote a Broadway play, studied music at the conservatory and used to perform live concerts in the park. I know that I'll miss her forever