I think I saw an Angel,
In my house last night;
She was sitting in my bedroom,
When I turned off the light.
She was elegantly simple,
In a gown of golden mesh,
Which glittered in the moonlight,
That shone upon her dress.

Soft, golden threaded wings,
Fluttered 'round her haloed head;
I could barely see them move,
As I looked out from my bed.

Oh, so tiny ... so petite,
Was I sure that she was there?
I took another little peek,
And saw her perched upon my chair.

For a moment I was frightened,
Yet, I felt assurance, too;
I wanted then to pick her up,
But my body would not move.

"Is she my Angel, God?" I asked,
"Of course she is," He said;
"And in the dark of night,
She is always by your bed.

"In the daylight hours,
She often perches on an ear;
Everyone has Angels,
And they are always near."

So I lay quite still and watched her,
As she fluttered 'round the place;
Soon she came up on my pillow,
And I swear she brushed my face.

Then, as I watched, she disappeared,
She completely left my sight;
I lay there just an instant,
Then turned on my bedroom light.

I looked into my dresser mirror,
And on the cheek that she had brushed,
Was the tiny imprint of a kiss,
That felt warm when I touched.

Then I looked about the room,
And what did my eye behold ...
But there upon my pillow case,
Was a tiny thread of gold.