“Heaven to Betsy” the saying goes,
No smells above that one senses with the nose.
Only waves of perfumed scents in the heavens above,
Caressing the adored ones with so much love.
Is there color above, distinction of the skin?
I would doubt it for above we are all akin.
No arguments or spats of hate would permeate the space,
Only good remarks of virtuous talks and those words filled with grace.
No drama there, no pitter patter of soiled feet stomping with distain,
For the whispers of goodness replace the angry words with which we complain.
Peace reigns in all its glory and the light shines bright,
For God’s blessing is a feeling of serene peace in a gentle light.