Poetry

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What if in heavens vast design,
A star was placed for me,
The mansion promised years before,
To spend eternity.
What if each star was just a home,
Built with God’s own hands,
It’s waiting for the end of time,
To finish out his plans.
Could there be a better place,
Than inside heavens bar,
Designed any way you want,
For you will own the star.
Traveling with the speed of light,
Across heavens foam,
In just the twinkling of a eye,
You could visit someone’s home.
The Milky Way is heavens road,
A highway for the blessed,
To travel anywhere we want,
God’s highways are the best.
Music comes from heavens ports,
And plays the sweetest tones.
Angel wings would gently fan,
A breeze from God’s own throne,
You’d shop in heavens market,
Where immortal things are bought,
Purchased with heavens money,
Transporting things with thought.
You could fish in heaven’s ocean,
Where unusual fish reside,
And each the biggest ever caught,
With them already fried.

Black berries would grow everywhere,
No thorns are on the vines,
All ripened and all seedless,
You could squeeze the leaves for wine.
On your star you’d own the river,
You’d own the mountains and the streams,
What ever was your hearts desire,
It would turn out to be.
In the deepest of the meadows,
On the star which has my name,
Roam every kind of animal,
But on my star they are tame.

I’ll bask in shades of Aspen,
Lay beneath the tallest oaks,
I’ll double up from laughing,
At all of heavens jokes.
On my star, my name is written,
Its up to me to claim my share,
If I don’t make it to heaven,
Then my star will not be there.
You may wonder why so many stars,
Are falling from their place,
It is no more than different ones,
Who rejects the saving grace.
You see the star, for you was purchased,
Many years ago.
But you must claim the title,
By the redemption of your soul.
And if you don’t, know one else,
Can move onto your land,
God simply turns the light out,
And so it falls out of His plans.

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