Sonnet: Heaven is for Pure Souls

A Turkey towel, sodden is heavy;
A sinful soul can't rise to Heav'n above;
A drowned man's lungs are air-less, watery;
The sinful soul to hell drops like a dove.

How can a glutton make his body light?
The anchor out of water is heavy;
How can man see well on a Moonless night?
To give up bad-habits is not easy.

The dust-bin’s meant to hold all littered things;
The garbage-dump has house-hold refuse spilled;
The library has books good for earthlings;
The soul of man must always be grace-filled.

Containers must contain just things aright;
Sunlight is day and darkness fills the night.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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