Image by Pixabay.com

At Last

I found myself leaning against the gates of heaven

As if they were no more than the local pub doors

If I push them open, would I find a pint waiting?

I doubt it. Then again, God has been known

To surprise and devastate. With the speed of lightning

Taking my soul. She was the summer rain

I prayed that dry weather should never come

That my arms would hold her for eternity

Now I care not if storms rage for ever.

The air shimmered with star dust; the gates opened

As I fell, I heard her whisper

You’re home at last…

©AnitaDawes