What is joy anyway but that ill-remembered childhood
when everything smelt of cookies and grass?
It's that break in mundanity when life sparkles
and dies, it dies, it dies with a bright passion
and yet all the same it fades into sinking sand.
What is peace? when you feel at one with your soul
but in that oneness must also feel alone
and its fleeting and oh so fleeting flits
to be left behind in your homes soft air.
Catch them both falling like your minds brightest star
and see them flicker out between your fingers
and shimmer and dazzle and fizzle and die
and the darkness dreary fills your eyes.
What is joy anyway but the deceiving elf of Keats
as fair and rich as the orchids dewy leaf
when the sun shines it touches on the sublime
and yet in evening seems a thing forlorn.
we grasp at joy and see its sparkle in the mirrors eye
and mirrored in our lovers simple adoration
hope to feed it back and see it come around again.
But is it enough? is it ever enough to remember how it feels
when days go past without the overwhelming love
when the cookies and the grass are gone.
Though the horizon may bloom with purple orchids
those painted lips blow kisses you cannot see
and it seems so dark, you've lost your little light
and perhaps there'll be no more cookies, there'll be no more grass.
Author notes
I'm not quite sure. Just the way I feel sometimes when I'm having a slightly negative period in my life like I am on and off at the moment (I start feeling fine then someone does something which brings me down again). Its easy in those sad moments to feel like you're always going to be unhappy and that the moments of being truly happy are really outweighed by the rest of the rubbish you get in every day life.
I'd like to clarify this isn't a poem of extremes, when I say bad days I just mean feeling relatively rubbish not over the top thoroughly unhappy. (we all get bad days sometimes).
A e d a r a _ w r e n
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Well, this is my introduction to the writings of Aedara-wren. Loved the notion of recognizing adoration and feeding it back; keeping the cycle going. Love is a potential; it must be energized before being given; and received before it is anything at all. Live with the confidence of the flower...
what choice do we have? -
One of the nicer...
ones I've read. It's a bit depressing to hear young people being unhappy, but as the writer says, she is not talking about clinical depression or anything like that
The cookies (or biscuits as we should say) and grass thing introduced at the beginning, and wrappng it up at the end, makes a proper poem of it.
I do wonder whether there is not a good old-fashioned metrical and rhyming poet striving to get out.
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I think you'd be surprised at the number of young people who are unhappy in todays society. Unfortunate but true that society is very much going wrong somewhere. The cookies referred to are the large american style chocolate chip contraptions rather than our normal English biscuits, although I suppose I just thought the word fitted in better. I do rhyming poetry on occasions but most of the time for personal things it can be difficult to write ones feelings without them sounding a little contrived. Thank you for your kind comment, I'm glad you enjoyed the poem.
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Perhaps...
So let us hope that this same generation creates for itself and future generations, something altogether better!
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We Certainly Do At Times
I like your "from the heart write" - although I'm a rhymer this poem flows beautifully - and the content great - very well done my dear - hugs - Bless God - Joe --------------------------------- "the joy of the Lord is my strength" ---------- I avoid people that would take away my joy - lol
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Great poem
Favorite lines:
"What is joy anyway but the deceiving elf of Keats
as fair and rich as the orchids dewy leaf
when the sun shines it touches on the sublime
and yet in evening seems a thing forlorn.
we grasp at joy and see its sparkle in the mirrors eye
and mirrored in our lovers simple adoration
hope to feed it back and see it come around again."
Thank you for entering and good luck in the contest.
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• if you would please space your name out in your AN like this : X x D r o w n . M e . D r y X x . Just out a space between each of your letters. Please. If you chose not to thats fine but i would like you you give me a reason.
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Very pensive poem, madame philophe!
tres bon! 
, Dannie
P.S. Good luck in the concert.
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