Voices blend in bright splashes of

An eternal child’s song.

Enjoyment rises and wraps around

This funny old place

Like an eiderdown quilt,

Patched in prettiness

And crazy mismatched patterns that

Somehow all work together nevertheless.

Happy is often a hard thing to

Define in me,

Or, perhaps, more so, to hold onto.

For the years have not been kind

In keeping with the smiles.

Where I have strived to pull it round me,

It usually winds up tatters all the while.

But, this. 

This day. This hour. This moment.

I can feel it-Contentment.

Without the constant nagging of fear

In what lies ahead.

Without the relentless tugging in my ear

That whispers past and present dread.

Oh, that I may relish this respite

And allow it to cover me.

Oh, that I may rest 

Without spoiling it in the restless wonder of

How long it will last…

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