A Saintly Trip

A Saintly Trip short poem

I know that I will be taken
shoulder high,
to a celestial Kingdom foretold,
located in realms beyond the distant
Sky.
I know that I will be adorned
in a tunic too bright to behold,
to meet with Saints and
dignitaries of the Heavenly host,
in banquet halls where
we shall drink a toast
in honour of the Sapphire throne
of His Majesty Divine,
at whose bosom the martyrs dine.
encomiums will the Celestial Orchestra
on me bestow, and on my head
will the Saintly ring glow.
In the valley of mirth,
where the rivers of bliss flow,
will my Earthly travails
be forever cleansed,
that I may like the
Saints before me be
eternally blessed.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Joseph C Ogbonna

Joseph C Ogbonna

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
Joseph Ogbonna is a prolific Nigerian poet.Hewas born on the 1st of may 1975 in the Nigerian commercial capital of Lagos.He has published two volumes of poetry and a novel, currently on sale in Amazon, Barnes and noble, authorhouse and other bookshops around the World.Joseph is a lover of classical music and opera, and loves to read the Bible and literary works of metaphysical poets.He resides in Enugu, South-East Nigeria
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

The Relinquished Trip With The Soil

The Relinquished Trip With The Soil prose poem

After four female checks, came a sparkling young man The beginning of Sunday, Sep 09 saw the principal touch of a brilliant kid Shouting, rolling and crying the black man With grins and appreciation mother adores for the kid Daddy

A Trip To The Wonderland

A Trip To The Wonderland prose poem

Hey ! happy riders ! All set for a pleasure trip ? Would you please take me along Or just share your ambitious plan ? ” Up the hills and down to the vales Across the streams and rivers on

The Rolls Royce Trip

The Rolls Royce Trip long poem

What is like a smooth Paved road and I speeding In a silver Rolls Royce? The rich and the fast Are beyond reach Beyond reach there is no hope As my silver Rolls Royce accelerates The paupers are blurred The

The Camping Trip

The Camping Trip short poem

The fathers are all crying there is no more beer so they drank the river water now they weep like children and the wives wring their hands talk about amoebas, bacteria the children tend the campfire no one asks them