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This Moment
The old woman bends, tends her plot
weeding the carrots and peas
and smiles, though the sun had grown hot.
'I think that I feel a small breeze.'
I smile back. 'You're not hard to please.'
She shrugs - 'Nothing better than this -
a fine day, a heart that's at ease -
that's my definition of bliss.

The boy frowns, mind focused. The shot
rolls 'round the rim, in a tease
poises a moment, then drops.
He slaps his hands hard on his knees.
'It's all in the wrist, the release.'
(A wry smile) 'Yeah. All in the wrist.'
Father-son - small victories
that's my definition of bliss.

His stomach tied up in a knot
('She'll say no, but I'll ask at least.')
He marshals his nerve with the thought
('Just ask her. Don't stand there. Don't freeze')
He takes her hand, gives it a squeeze.
He asks. She says 'Yes,' and they kiss.
Dreams turning to realities
that's my definition of bliss.

With time, a man understands, sees
that this moment alone can exist.
This moment, not dry memories,
that's my definition of bliss

By tony parsons

© 2016 tony parsons (All rights reserved)


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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Then I Commended Mirth (challenge has been closed)

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