Happiness
To what I owe this joy I have no clue
for it took years to grow this little seed
Some days I had to dig to find its hue
and other times I just knew what to do
I do not own a smile for every face
for sadness often creeps inside my heart
Sometimes it disappears without a trace
that little joy in me that once took part
She is a butterfly that often flies
somedays she sits upon my window sill
and other times, cocooned by tries
she's bittersweet, elusive, gone at will
It is no lie she cannot fly when maimed
nor sit upon a shoulder filled with gloom
so many dark nights of the soul she claimed
then fleetingly she left this birthing womb
To what I owe this joy? I have no clue
perhaps in letting go of past arrears
we spring up hope and chase away the blues
perhaps when sorrow leaves then joy appears.
February 26, 2023
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name Writing Challenge -H Words
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