Is a book snuggled against your chest
Under the warm blanket.
It’s the light tapping of the rain
Landing in jaunty rhythm on the roof.
It’s his warm hand in yours
Cramming a million sweet words
In one gentle squeeze.
It’s the smile of your sister
The laughter of your mother.
It’s the ray of sun that lands on a page;
It’s the tales and secrets traded between siblings,
Before chuckling faces subside to sleep.
It’s a fleeting ecstasy,
The sudden jolt of a content heart
Who recognises the many blessings
That dot and water sinewy lives.
It’s… the half-smile that blooms,
Green and fierce on the arid land
Of your melancholy.