I'm Packing Things for Heaven

I’m packing things for Heaven,

For surely they’ll have room

A must to bring my clothes along

And even my perfume.

I’m packing things for Heaven

Eternity will call

I’ve got to bring my jewels for which

My royalty does fall

I’m certain there is furniture,

For where do angels sit?

Love seats must be used up there,

In fact, I’m sure of it.

I hope I can find room for all

My gourmet cooking tools

And gosh, I’ve all these bathing suits

I hope that God likes pools.

I’m packing things for Heaven,

And when I take my trip

I won’t be coming back this way

By train or car or ship

One thing that I’m sure of

Immortality or not

Mostly I’ll be missing you

The one thing I forgot.

Carol Lynn Stevenson Grellas has loved poetry from the time

she was a young girl. Her love of writing followed her in school,

where she was an English and Art major at Santa Clara University.

Her passion for art and writing has been a source of joy for her

throughout her life. Recently she put together a collection of verse,

in a unique way, as each poem tells a little story and is interesting

and delightful to read. Each poem, a small vignette or message all

its own. Some have a quirky or humorous twist, to capture one’s

interest. Whether to be light hearted or poignant, each giving

a refreshing delivery, of everyday life, with its struggles and

unpredictability.

Carol Lynn has lived in Northern California, with her family, 

all of her life. She has five children and loves to cook, paint and write.

Carol Lynn and her mother owned a business together at one time,

designing clothing, which served as a creative outlet for several

years. Most recently, her passion for writing has surfaced and

this collection of poetry evolved. She continues to write about

everyday occurrences in an engaging way.

Her writing is heartfelt and down to earth. She has drawn on

the ups and downs of life from her own experiences, which she

continues to write about and is currently working on her second

book titled, Conversations at Midnight.

Lonely shoes

I’ll bow with my condolences

Obligatory grace

And when events

Have reached an end

The church an empty place

You’ll never know a tear was cried

For no one there will tell

The tears that filled a thousand cracks

Where holy spirits dwell

And rolled along the wooden planks

That lay beneath the pews

Where mourners come to say goodbye

And leave in lonely shoes.