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a poem about what heaven is for me |
| Heaven imagined If I imagine heaven it smells of cut grass and new buds of Jasmine on a mild evening. There’s a soundtrack of favourite songs playing at the perfect volume. No unknown virgins wait for me. No bearded saints for bouncers. But there’s a lover known to me only when our eyes first meet. He yearns for every inch of me, and our smiles are impossibly radiant. If I imagine heaven, there’s conversation and curiosity. My friends are there and it’s that easy feeling gentle, like a garden swing. There are overstuffed pillows, cold wine and picnic blankets, and sunshine and fresh raspberries. If I imagine heaven there is laughter Bubbling baby giggles, the chesty ripple of old men remembering their first time and that special girlfriend laughter husky and intimate. If I imagine heaven, it is an A in English, it’s my mother’s smile, my father’s hand when we crossed the road, it is my baby at my breast. When I imagine heaven It is every good thing I have ever known Right here on earth |