How Good It Is

How good it is to have a place
To lay my head down and take off my shoes
To soap myself down at least once a day
Or twice if I so choose.

How good it is to have a book
To read at night and out in the garden
And this cup of tea that I brewed for me
Thrown into the bargain.

How good it is to have a spoon
This pair of sticks and my decorative bowl
So that I can make a batch of noodles
And eat a buttered roll.

How good it is to hear the frogs
Sweeping each other off sticky frog feet
Bellowing lullabies all through the night
To match the ocean deep.

How good it is to feel the smile
Which transforms my face as I meet the eyes
Of the woman who sells bananas next door
Underneath sunny blue skies.

How good it is to feel my feet
So barely shod ‘gainst clean brown tile
Little white toes nestled on the brown earth
Brings to my face a smile.

How good it is to feel my heart
Which pounding and thumping throughout the day
Is quieter now, lulled by books and by frogs
Which before me now lay.


 

The reader brings his or her own experience when reading a poem. Here is mine. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

About Josie

I run slowly through forests, eat spoonfuls of Jif's Natural creamy peanut butter, and perpetually wear a fuzzy Patagonia sweater I found for $1.50 at a charity shop in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I deal in trees, breeze, and threes. I'm not interested in being normal. I'm not looking to pass GO. I'm not looking for anything other than breathable freedom.