I sometimes compose
Pretty good prose;
When I try to write verse,
It comes out worse.
Happiness is a bird with wings of fire,
No one can teach and no one can hire.
It is to fly in the sky lighting up the ground,
Let yourself follow it like the merry-go-round.
Protect it from rain but without anchoring with a chain,
Be like a canopy...you may get wet, but it will make you warm again.
This is the tale of this cute little bird,
"Happiness" we call it; care it softly without being hard!:)
Here's my poem:
Dry curious yolk - print mate
dak ------------------ !
Yeah, I'm into Dada. It shows, I know.
[You, downvoting haters, can't even appreciate art that was modern a century ago. Be ashamed of yourself!]
What happiness means to me
A good book in a rainy day
And a cup of boiling tea
I do believe that it is very possible,
A little bit of creativity makes it plausible,
Not only plausible but quite readily available,
Do not doubt the rhyming,
Everything is all about timing,
Very little is left to the imagination,
Really when I drove my car to the station,
I simply entered a car park and had to buy a token,
Everything was fine until I realised that the token machine was broken,
So not much of a poem but I used my name to begin each line.