Happiness Is…
A sunny day early in the Paris spring.
Happiness is sun-dappled apple in its freshness
but lingering smooth like chocolate almonds melting on your tongue.
Hearing flowers grow or each blade of grass unfurl,
or gentling out of fluff lining the nests.
Happiness is hearing the bustle elsewhere
oneself in no hurry
quick only to smile at passers-by.
Sweet hesitations of nothings to fill a day.
A perch somewhere astray, to pontificate and contemplate
glimpses of famous monuments,
but no need to tick them off your list.
You admire the sleek and chick Parisian parents, their control
of pushchairs… breathe relief they’re not your own…
It’s the little everyday things we celebrate today on dVerse Poets Pub. Join us there for a drink, a chat and plenty of good poems!
findingtimetowrite 