She rides a yellow bike
Barefoot on a path of glass
Her hair is short
And close to her head
Each curl perfectly coiled
And golden as the sunflowers around her
She wears a white dress
Sinched at the waist and knee length
Her Easter pink scarf
Is tucked into either elbow
And trails behind her, light as a feather
In her basket she carries flowers
Jasmine, carnations, lillies and daisies
The tunnel of trees she travels through
Is in full bloom
Pink and white against a sky so blue
The falling pettles dance like snow
The sun is warm and inviting
A rain falls from no-where
The drops, a gentle kiss on her shoulders
She will ride this path for eternity
For she has no-where else to be
Than at peace
Who is she?
She is me.
And when I think of Heaven,
This is what I see.🌸🌸🌸
-
Author:
Birddie (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 1st, 2019 05:13
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments2
A lovely read bluejay - so colourfully penned - the pink in the verse could do with being a little bit clearer but charmingly lined nevertheless. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you dearly for the feedback
Good write blue.
I'm glad you enjoyed it
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