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