Book of my first poems

The word of Heaven

The old clock struck eleven
And the chair creaked back and forth.
He heard the word of Heaven
And had let fate take it's course.
His common name was devon,
and the chair would hold no more.

This tale is like no other,
For the chair rocked with his life.
Soon he would join his mother
And hopefully see his wife.

The wishful hand had struck twelve.
He would soon be departed.
Departure, time for farewell.
No matter where he started,
the old, old man named Devon,
saw the big gates of heaven.