|Stuff of joy|
I touch forsythia, pale and soft
showing the yellowness of the spring sun
the air smells misty, like newly mown grass
mating calls sound from songbids high aloft.
A cup of tea feels delightfully warm
an entire cupful of liquid joy
a pastry, a cookie, or any nice treat
happiness in sunshine or in a storm.
Melodious sounds flutter through the air
from birds calling out to their future mates
in chirps and whistles, always sounding sweet
colorful songbirds flying off in pairs.
Flutterby, butterfly, your wings so bright.
I would follow you over sea and land.
I would follow you where ever you go.
Your bright colors give me so much delight.
I can visit places both far and near
beneath the sea, in other galaxies
back when dinosaurs roamed the earth
good books will carry me both here and there.