William Sinclair Manson

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My-Poetry / Writings · 22 October 2019

My Poetry. My time has come.

He crossed the path he wanted to
and was able to feel anew
comfort and love surrounded him
No more feelings of blue.
The most he expected was happiness
the least remembering his past
but surprising himself he felt no pain
And the hope that this would last.
Seeing the clouds silky white
Floating on a cushion of air
the light was so invitingly sweet
Sickly as a ripened pear.
Dropped off gently he looked around
Everything placed as he dreamed
Coloured flowers blooming everywhere
As his face lit up, it beamed.
Paradise found life just beginning
as flashbacks filled his mind
Temptation vivid pictures were real
And everyone was so kind.
No place for hatred racism or war
Everything rose-coloured and clear
Children playing everywhere
No one is full of fear.
Nightingales singing in a melodic tune
Trees whispering lightly in the breeze
No animals caged, running free
Do as you like or please.
Waking up with a smile on your face
Each new day brought with sunshine
This place I now proudly call my home
Is full of happiness and love, and it's mine.

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