Mood:  happy

O solo mio was a loner it seems,
all by herself, just her & her dreams.

She was found in a basket & covered with moss,
her tiny hands were cold and her momma was lost.

Wanting her baby she died all alone,
her spirit stayed wandering, sad to the bone.

O solo mio grew healthy and strong,

living on discards, all her life long.

In the city she wandered a wayfaring waif,
inside herself she felt happy and safe.

She worked when she could, and not for much pay, 
O solo mio would eat on that day.

Some days her belly would rumble and roar,
hunger was something she felt many times before.

This sweet little woman child never complained,
one day a man got her drunk on champagne.

He took her in an alley, she went willingly,
she was innocent and pure with a heart full of glee.

He beat her and raped her and left her for dead, 
O solo mio just lay there and bled.

As the life left her body, a spirit came near,
holding her baby she shed an invisible tear.

They rose in the heavens, together at last,
smiling and happy with no thoughts of the past.

They entered a realm of beauty and light,
O solo mio was glowing so bright.

She was sent back to earth as an angel for those,

who were battered & torn and quietly forlorn.

She was the angel of mercy with arms held out wide,

she sat on their shoulders to give them their pride.

O solo mio was not lonely you see,

her new name was planted in life’s human seed.

Her grace is your glory, her wings are so warm,
her momma is with her in angelic form.

By: JvS ©

Jill Schaal All Rights Reserved