by Richard Vince

Perhaps I did not know joy after all:
Not the sort of joy that grows
Slowly but determinedly, like spring
That never declines into summer.

Lovely moments are so much
Easier to enjoy when I do not
Dread what follows them;
When everyday is not
Synonymous with misery.

The desire to escape is
An exhausting one: making plans
That never come to fruition,
Imagining different lives that will
Never be lived, always being
On the lookout for a way out.

Now, at last, I have a life into which
I can relax; a life that I know
Is better than any fantasy
My imagination can create. I lie
Among the greenest of grass, basking
In the warmth of a love that shines
Stronger with each passing day.


Posted on 01/07/2018
Copyright © 2022 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by John Herzog on 01/08/18 at 03:13 PM

These are words to live by, and so gorgeously articulated. A perfect read for my Monday morning. :)

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