More Daze Like This!

Where does my angel stow her hallowed wings
And where the purse in which her halo goes
When she's engaged in less angelic things
Like trimming the viny mailbox rose
In the heavenly beams of middle May
Or getting the likeness of a flower
In some well established artistic way
Which ever snares its aesthetic power?
Repurposed; it serves her sense of duty
To make her nearby space a better place
Intrinsically devoted to beauty...
Recycled with a celestial grace
As all her concealed angel parts
Most routinely turbocharge Cupid's darts!