After I referred to Adrian Plass’ poem “Heavenly Playground” in the service I led on Sunday, a few people asked if I had a copy of it. I’m including it here for reference – hope Mr. Plass doesn’t object.
Oh God, I’m not anxious to snuff it,but when the Grim Reaper reaps me,I’ll try to rely onmy vision of Zion,I know how I want it to be.As soon as you greet me in Heaven,and ask what I’d like, I shall say,“I just want a chancefor my spirit to dance,I want to be able to play.Tell the angels to build a soft playground,designed and equipped just for me,with a vertical slidethat’s abnormally wide,and oceans of green PVC.There’ll be reinforced netting to climb on,and rubberized floors that will bend,and no one can die,so I needn’t be shyif I’m tempted to land on a friend!I’m gonna go mad in the soft, squashy mangle,and balmy with balls in the swamp,coloured and spherical,I’ll be hysterical!I’ll have a heavenly romp!There’ll be cushions and punch bags and tiresin purple and yellow and red,and a mushroomy thingthat will suddenly singif I kick it or sit on its head.There’ll be fountains of squash and ribinato feed my continual thirst,and none of that stuffabout “You’ve had enough,surely heavenly bladders won’t burst.I suppose I might be too tall for the entrance,but Lord, chuck the rules in the bin.If I am too large,tell the angel in chargeto let me bow down and come in.Adrian Plass
For the sake of completeness, it’s from an excellent CD called “City of Gold”.