About 20 years ago we printed in the folknik a poem by Ed Bronstein. It was inspired by our Friday night sings and the picture which was painted, and still appears, on my front window here at 885 Clayton. The picture is a copy of a several-centuries-old woodcut which shows some androgynous angels playing a variety of musical instruments.
Ed repeated the poem at my 84th birthday party and there was hardly a dry eye in the house! (A lot of old timers were there.) -Faith Petric
They were ordinary people; they did ordinary things
Yet, one night they sang together and they heard the rush of wings.
It all began one evening when they met, as friends will do,
To share a bit of wine and cheese and sing a song or two
But the hour grew late in singing and dawn crept 'cross the land
To find them still in harmony singing Angel Band.
There was no reason to stay so late, there were other things to do
Yet a spirit had come upon them -made them sing the whole night through
With not a thought that they were caught they sang all night and then
When further met, enraptured yet, they sang all night again.
You and I, we were there too, all standing hand in hand
Our voices raised into the night singing Angel Band.
The night was made for singing with candles flickering low
As voices merge and mingle in the firelight glow
The good and gracious lady at whose home we sang 'til dawn
Cried, "You've made this house a house of song! Let it be so from now on."
It was then that on her window, by some invisible hand
A picture was painted for all to see: there stood The Angel Band
Oh, Friends, the glass may someday break or the painting fade from sight
But still the spirit will remain that makes us sing all night
And we will live, and love, and laugh, and sing because we must,
Further dawns are ours to see before we turn to dust
For there are songs yet to be sung and great things to be planned
Before we go to Paradise to join The Angel Band.
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