Hugh Blumenfeld Raphael
In the cool hour of the evening The garden gold and breathing My lover at my hand Two virgins in the land and angels on the wing descending as they sing, "Raphael, oh Raphael" O how it made you warm To see my lover's form Who'd think a human touch Could make an angel blush and you'd leave grudgingly as if you envied me, Raphael. You'd linger just to talk For hours as we'd walk Your feet burned on the hills you never had your fill Was it you who brought us fire On your wings of desire, Raphael? And when the earth grew cold the vision would not hold heaven closed its doors we never see you anymore and our voices fill the air like a table or a chair, Raphael. But I swear there's still an ember of paradise remembered a certain shade of blue the nakedness we knew and I wonder if you keep the feel of grass beneath your feet and when you seraphim embrace now, does the blood rise in your face Raphael? Oh, Raphael, Raphael. Copyright 1995, Hugh Blumenfeld / Hydrogen Jukebox Music
