Recycled angels

in the eve of frost
they sail on weathered wings
and glide their shiny toes
across satin spar lakes

their bodies silver ice
join in the resplendent lights
overhead in nocturnal play

pale expressions alight
with the reflection of a mirrored moon...

stars reside in their hearts
and collect on their beaten ascensions...

in the eve of frost
they rise in indigo skies
for overdue missions found
below an invalid's tongue

delight is theirs in eyes
that view what comes true
of visions held in hope's abode

bare metal limbs seek
the riddle's clue of ageless forfeited fables...

most prayers are heard
and ultimately fulfilled by these recycled angels