Lazy day thunderstorm,
with a new, thick, unread book
and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies
still warm and oozing gooey in my mouth.
Sun warms my mostly bared back
with no bugs, protected from the itchy slice
of grass blades and no demands for now.
Silence like a warm blanket,
envelops me in its comforting grip
after the cacophony of friends and family
finally abates.
I can be social,
I can be charming,
but the truth is
nobody can hand you joy.
Happiness comes from within
in the moments you enjoy
being alone.


About E

Even as a child, I read voraciously. Writing has always been a natural outlet. Sometimes bordering on macabre or edgy, I was not always safe and even today I look at some of my writing and raise an eyebrow. Read me at your own risk. I am but a 30-something professional (don't ask a professional what, for I won't answer!) who spends nights as a dreamer and sometimes writer.
This entry was posted in 2013, poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Happiness

  1. MyHomeIsWriting says:

    This is lovely and well written. I can relate.

    Liked by 1 person

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