Home Time

Sat on the veranda, watching the sun go to bed, A myriad of thoughts running through my head. Straining though the pain of every breath, Wishing it would all just leave me be. Asked Papa so many times over the years, Why has my life been hidden behind a veil of tears. Never got an answer as I can recall. So I just got on with it, warts and all. As the light began to fade and the garden lights came on, I realized I was not alone, where did he come from? I heard your cry and have come to say I care, Come, take my hand and let us away. As I stood up waiting for the pain of standing. It never happened; it was not demanding. Who are you Sir, where are we going? As I touched his hand, what happened made me sway, The pains of a lifetime slipped away. We walked, no, drifted through the fence, into the night, He seemed to read my thoughts as he said, she will be alright. Are you Jesus, I thought I said. Have you come for me, am I dead? You know your bible, I have watched you read each page. Your place is ready, you have come to the end of the age. © Dave Timperley 16/06/2022