Copyright ©2023 John Wm Beckner - All Rights Reserved

In Petite Oasis, a haven serene,
Lives Angie, a lady, strong and unseen,
A soldier once, in distant lands she'd roam,
Enduring trials, far away from home.

Her eyes hold stories, depths of war's despair,
Yet beauty blooms, like wildflowers rare,
Bearing scars unseen and well concealed,
A testament to strength that won't be repealed.

Identity stolen, trust betrayed,
In shadows of fear, she'd often wade,
But is it paranoia, when threats abound,
And wickedness circles, all around?

In our community, Angie found her place,
A Petite Oasis, with a gentle grace,
Amidst the turmoil, a moment's bliss,
She sang Happy Birthday, an angel's kiss.

Her voice, a melody, pure and true,
A gift from a heart that's weathered and grew,
Through darkness and strife, she shines so bright,
A beacon of hope in the darkest of night.

In Angie's heart, there's a love so profound,
For God, in her life, an anchor she's found,
Amidst trials and tribulations, she'd pray,
Seeking solace and guidance, come what may.

In the sanctuary of faith, she'd confide,
With God as her compass, she'd never divide,
Her love, like a beacon, forever will glow,
Guiding her through life's ebb and flow.

With the voice of an angel, she'd sing His praise,
In each note, a hymn, her devotion ablaze,
For in God's embrace, she'd find her reprieve,
A source of strength, in whom she'd believe.

So let us embrace her, with open hearts wide,
In Angie, resilience and grace coincide,
For she's a survivor, a warrior, and more,
In the tapestry of life, she's woven her lore.


9/30/23 Angie is a new friend. The poem covers the little I know about her now. In her I see a soul
that has been bruised but not broken.