I’m not good at happy poetry, but sometimes you have to try…

Untitled..

If words could explain the happiness you bring

I would never stop talking.

I would never stop writing.

And, all of the words in all of the languages weaved together

would seem a terribly incomplete lexicon.

The sounds would be more like ripples on the top of a

lake’s moonlit reflective water, that

disappear after mere moments into stillness -

A universe moving under the surface,

A life and meaning not seen,

A passionate wonder hidden under the serene.

©8/6/07