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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #775770
who knows what death really is apart from want of breath?
I do not see a grim reaper
But a beautiful girl who laughs
For this is a beautiful world
Hung by the sins of its past

I do not see a sharp scythe
But a gentle kiss and touch
For this is a gentle world
Which longs to be loved so much

I do not see its weary bones
But an inviting body to hold
For she is a warm invitation
Safe harbour from the cold

I do not see its dark cloak
But bright eyes that shine
For this is a shining world
That takes your love in mine

I do not smell its foul stench
But in her sweet scent of love
For there is a God who loves life
Who lives in my heart sure enough

by David Peter Robertson
© Copyright 2003 David Peter Robertson (dprobertson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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