This was a good day.

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This was a good day.

Post  Pat on Fri Sep 29, 2017 11:20 am

Looking for help of any sort.

On Not Looking for Happiness
 
I sweep a floor, wash dishes, divide hostas
while smiling about my round world rolling,
breezes blowing, sun shining.
 
Paradise grows in my mind.
 
There, I follow children like Pied Pipers
prancing, dancing, laughing their way
along rivers, up hills.  
 
A fine day to let my mind play.
 
Seasons come and go. I let them pass
like a five-year-old, trusting they
will come again.
 
What saint would not approve?
 
When I find you in pain,
I touch an arm and gaze into eyes,
imaging them as stars. They brighten.
 

My happiness, almost more than I can bear.

Pat

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Re-order?

Post  tsukany on Fri Sep 29, 2017 1:44 pm

Pat

Seems like this poem needs an arrangement of details.  They seem be thrown at me rather than offered as a guide.

I get stuck by "There" in stanza three.  It grammatically wants to go back to Paradise.

When the title says you are not looking for happiness, we expect chores would lead us to the mundane.  Re-arranged, the details of the mundane reveal the divine, even paradise.

Todd
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Oh phooey. . . .

Post  Pat on Fri Sep 29, 2017 4:08 pm

That is supposed to be Here, not There.  But I do that in raw poems all the time.  
The overall idea is that I am not looking for happiness, but I find it anyway.  Hmmmm.  I'll look at the arrangement.  Thanks.  And have a great conference.

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The simple things of life

Post  Ben Johnson on Sat Sep 30, 2017 10:16 am

Pat,  I like how you show us how everyday things can turn into pleasures when our eyes are attuned to see them.  "Like a five year-old" brings the innocence to keep in mind when dealing with kids. (we have the grands this weekend)  Our youngest is six. Sometimes it is a challenge.

Good poem

Dennis

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not looking for happiness

Post  Dewell H. Byrd on Sat Sep 30, 2017 9:15 pm

Pat, I see where you are going with this poem but I find the road a little rocky.  Maybe you have overstated the mundane, dragging it out so I forget the happiness goal.  Actually your chores done in innocence with a receptive mind may be the key.
I'm delighted to find a "HAPPINESS" poem in the queue.  You have some very nice lines here.
Dewell

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