.
Happy
—for B.K.
A ground to play, a set to swing,
A slide to slide, a bell to ring:
She walks the way of there and then.
“Hap-py,” she says; “hap-py,” again.
A ball for foot, a nut for squirrel;
The way is wide for baby girl
Without the cares of where or when.
““Hap-py,” she says; “hap-py,” again.
The world is old, the world is new:
No wealth of words but precious few,
From mouth of babe to aging man:
“Hap-py,” she says; “hap-py,” again.
We all fall down; we all get up;
We dry our eye; we drink our cup.
Her voice invites a fond amen:
“Happy,” he says; happy again.
.
.
Joseph Stuart is a lawyer living and practicing in Northern Virginia. His blog can be found here: https://mightyinditers.typepad.com/hereunder/
A gem of a poem, Joseph! There’s a classical feeling to it. No joy in this world can match the one found in fatherhood. BK must be so blessed to have you. Thank you for sharing.
Precious poem when an old man can find happiness again in the joy of a young person, especially a loved one.
Oh, yes. Takes me back.
Thanks for the read, Joseph.