Hurried steps from
room to room, bed to bed,
Too many wounds and
bandages soaking red.
She has seen the ugliest of wounds,
and her mind echoes those desperate cries,
Yet she will always greet you,
wearing her friendliest, warmest smile.
Words of comfort spill from her lips,
And thrashing bodies calm down
with her gentle forehead kiss.
When the doctor leaves, she will stay,
Stick a needle and ask you about your day.
She watched you as you slowly recovered and coped,
Whispering stories of miracles; faith and hope.
Although her heart is frantic, racing in a hurry,
She will say, you need not worry.
Meticulous hands, skilled and quick,
The willing volunteer, healing the sick.
Tired eyes, but compassionate no less,
Bless these angels, and their unmatched kindness.
