I was thrown from the gates of heaven
And fell down to the land below.
I watched the gold sun setting
In a valley white with snow.
Then in the dark I heard a noise,
And I turned around to see
A woman of grace and poise
Who looked like love to me.
I asked if I could see her smile
And she was happy to oblige,
I knew that for a little while
I'd be the happiest man alive.
When she talked I heard the angels sing
And I couldn't hear a word,
I told her I'd give her my ring
If she would give me hers.
She walked up until I could feel her breath
To say she loved me so,
To tell me that until my death
Hers will be my home.
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Comments about this poem (Home by Dillon McKenna )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Federico García Lorca
(5 June 1898 – 19 August 1936)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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