Roberta Writes – Esther Chilton’s Writing Challenge: Angel, and Thursday Doors

I’m a bit late with this post but it’s been a tough week. My big transaction went live at 5.08pm tonight after four days of manic rushing about tying up loose ends and getting all the deliverables ready. This is the end of 10 weeks of hard work and I’m glad it’s done. I have another three on the go but those are smaller and more manageable.

Anyhow, on to the writing challenge. Esther’s prompt was angel. I had an idea last week which I didn’t manage to write up. Then I read Freya’s final post in her Dragon Scales poetry style series, and the following poem came all at once. So, this poem is for Esther’s challenge and is my first Dragon Scales poem. I’m not sure I got it quite right per Freya’s directions, but I’m pleased with the result. You can read Freya’s poem here: https://freyanrites.wordpress.com/2025/12/02/hollowness-verse-7/

You can read other Angel poems here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/11/26/writing-prompts-92/

Angel

When I was five, we moved into a house in Blairgowrie in Johannesburg. At the time, it was a typical suburban house with a low wall separating the front garden from the grassed pavement. Mom was very busy with my sister, Cath, you was only one and I spent a lot of time playing by myself.

That Christmas, Mom gifted me some old tinsel which was bald in patches. I could play with it and even cut it up into smaller pieces to use for my creative projects. I made one piece into an angel halo.

I was a good singer and was already singing in the school choir by the end of my first school year. I took it into my head to dress up as an angel and sing Christmas carols on the pavement outside my house.

I remember wearing a long white nightdress and borrowing one of my mom’s glittery evening shawls for wings. I put the halo on my head and took up a position on the pavement on my knees. Mom found me there several songs later, entertaining a gathering of pedestrians who had stopped to watch my show.

Mom was not pleased with me making an exhibition of myself.

bright

filled with light

little girl

dressed in white

a delightful sight

as day turns to night

angel

***

kind

strong of mind

intent on lifting

burden of daily grind

joy pedestrians find

Christmas redefined

angel

***

pure

no marketing lure

goodness still exists

message couldn’t be truer

there may seem fewer

but ills they still cure

angel

***

leader

to spread joy eager

innocence of youth

a child preacher

passion defines each feature

a curious Christmas teacher

angel

***

halo

colours of the rainbow

small, still child

engaged in Christmas tableau

small face all aglow

as people pass, to and fro

angel

***

hope

returns as a trope

all is not lost

viewers walk up the slope

better equipped to cope

there’s no need to mope

angel

***

life

can cut like a knife

there’d be no happiness

if we didn’t know strife

respect the midwife

take pleasure in wildlife

angel

Thursday Doors

Dan has suggested Christmas as a theme for Thursday Doors this month, so I’m going with that. You can join in here: https://nofacilities.com/2025/12/04/five-years-new-haven-connecticut/

These pictures are of the reception main door at Champagne Sports Resort Hotel where my family spent three days in early January this year. The Christmas lights and decorations were still up at that time.

The picture below is of the hotel rooms where we stayed. Ours were the bottom units.

Above is a picture of a vervet monkey on the gate

Above are a few of the flowers in the garden

75 thoughts on “Roberta Writes – Esther Chilton’s Writing Challenge: Angel, and Thursday Doors

  1. That was so funny and sweet. Were you ever tempted to be on the stage?

    The last picture I have as a pot plant my daughter gave me. Years ago I had one that did not flower again for nine years! My younger son sent me a white one for Mother’s Day. Luckily they are both flourishing on kitchen windowsills.

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    1. Hi Janet, as a young girl I did like to perform but it was spontaneous. I used to direct class plays at break and we’d perform them for the teacher. My Dad didn’t believe in girls acting or dancing in public once in their teens. Probably a good thing as it’s not a nice life.

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  2. Thanks for sharing that childhood memory, Robbie. It sounds like your creative spirit has always been hard to contain. I love that story, and your poem. The doors are beautiful, and I was happy to see the train still set up.

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  3. You were a little girl full of imagination. So cute. My aunt and I used to sell rocks in front of grandma’s house. The neighbours kindly gave is 5 cents each or ten cents if they were bigger and more interesting. Your poem is lovely.

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  4. I absolutely love your angel poems, and can picture you dressing up and singing for neighbors. I’m sorry your mother disapproved. Your photos are wonderful, Robbie!

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