When I was young, I dared to dream
of nights and castles bold.
But, as the time crept up on me,
the castles, they got old.
Now, I dream of another place,
where streets are paved with gold;
Where angels dance and praise the King,
and bodies donít grow old.
Where brothers and sisters donít get sick
and death has lost its sting;
Where weíll be clothed with gowns of praise
and sail on hallowed wings.
Where the Lord, Himself, will be the light
and darkness cannot live;
Where the power of love, that lives inside,
will feed the want to give.
Where the thoughts and dreams will all be
of the magnificence of His being;
Where we will all be so much in awe
with the Creator we are seeing.
© 2002 by Gary Hall
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Poetry used with permission from