Glancing through my personal address book
I see pages all faded and torn...
Resting next to my 'phone for so many years
It is looking quite old and forlorn.
There are hundreds of names and addresses
Of dear friends I have met on life's way;
But suddenly ~ and right out of nowhere
Some addresses are not needed today.
You've guessed; they've all gone to Heaven
And they all live at the very same abode
Care of The Archangel Gabriel,
Down the Holy King of Glory Road.
I must buy me a brand new address book
A book with a cover of gold, and enter those
Names of my late friends who now dwell
Down the Holy King of Glory Road.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem