(Hebrews 12.2 – expanded version)

"…looking to Jesus,
the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him...

For the JOY of following his father's will
For the JOY of offering us salvation

For the JOY of putting an end to death
For the JOY of his promised resurrection

For the JOY of ascending to his Father
For the JOY of sending the Spirit of truth

For the JOY of commissioning disciple makers
For the JOY of preparing many rooms

For the JOY of planning his wedding feast
For the JOY of coming for his bride

For the JOY of gifting the water of life
For the JOY of drinking kingdom wine

For all these JOYS set before him,

…Jesus endured the cross,
despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."

where nothing will rob him of these JOYS.

So I will write
A love letter to the flower
That withers not.
Or send a rose to the love
That dies not.
Beauty lying in perpetuity.
My tender passions fulfilled
For everlasting.
Desire turned inside out,
Heaven still lewd.
I will hold on,
I will still love
When all melody stops.
When the drought ends.
In the coldness of hell.
You are the flower
That will still blossom.

A small little outstretched hand, cradles the big finger, clutching on. The mother looks at her child and smiles brightly, how this bundle of joy came from her she would never understand but the love she had for her child was so abundant and clear.
Softly humming a lullaby and rocking back and forward, a man walks in with a brightly smiled face and adoring eyes.

He whispers to the mother “Now this, this is us starting our own little family.”

The mother looks up and plants a quick kiss on the man's lips, she looks back at her child and says “It's gonna be one adventure after another, with our bundle of joy.”

The man embraces both mother and child and they all fall asleep one after another.

It's good to make you smile
by simply being myself

You too make me smile
effortlessly

Let's make more time
together
and make less effort

A poem is like a tickle,
it gives both joy and pain:
with blissful tears and tearful giggles,
you'll read that poem again.

A poem is like a damaged heart in need of surgery:
a cut that heals,
a line that leaves a scar
along your heart.

Francie Lynch
From his portrait on HelloPoetry.com
https://hellopoetry.com/francie-lynch/

There are 12 types of joy:
simple joy
almost joy
systemic joy
Saturday joy
expressing joy
knowing joy
all joy
max joy
constant inputs of joy
single greatest joy
sacrifice or joy
the face of joy
at the periapsis of earth’s orbit.

in the wild, no one would spare a glance.
no part of you is a flaw in nature’s design.
please, continue to dance with the wind
and let fire rage in your heart.

I wish, I was a Rainbow Colour.
That defined My Life, at Night.
One that made Me look, a lot more Fuller.
One with which, I'd shine Bright.
Yellow is a Colour, that's Contagious,
It has a Smile, that's on a Boil.
It's the centre of Joy and Happiness.
A Life without Work and Toil.
In Red, I would look Bold and Handsome.
I would stand out, in the Crowd.
Warning all, When there's danger around,
I would move around, like a Cloud.
Green is a Colour that matches Nature,
I would be ready to Jet, Set....Go.
It is Zealous and has lot of Passion
Sky is the limit, l can Grow.
I would look Suave , if I was a White.
But actually I'm Black and Blue.
Life has painted Me with these 2 Colours
and I'm stuck to them like Glue.