Isle Of The Blessed Poem by Albert Price

Looking into the ready bronze orb of a rising sun,
I envision the crown of honor for labor's worth.
With deeds right and wrong that cannot be undone,
Accompanied by high delights I venture forth.

Having glorious visions of exceeding greater good,
I dream of the triumphant shadow of my past.
With good fortune and a deep and eager mood,
I seek to find a tearless and unlaborious life at last.

In this realm of God following the light of a star,
I boldly abided thrice the tempests of honorable life.
Recalling mother's prayers has brought me thus far,
Free from discomfort and grief or unrequited strife.

Onward toward that isle of the blessed I continue,
With me a story of words like arrows with a voice.
Looking to find noble deeds in that glorious venue,
The isle of the blessed is a most desirable choice.

Along the way passing meadows and wood,
I delight in the melody of birds in feathered robe.
I would linger for a season in a garden if I could,
But soon black the dome above but for golden orb.

Now when I reach the holy realm I set out to find,
I will rest at ease and on my story I will calmly reflect.
Sending out shafts speaking lines as sweet as wine,
I give honor to our Benefactor the Eternal Architect.