Perhaps I am a confusing individual
Believing that human nature is inherently good
While thinking that the world is out to get me
But knowing the universe is indifferent
To my menial existence that has beautiful
Tones lifting other souls into their fullest
Potential where they can live
Abiding by laws of morality
Which is a grey area
Molded skillfully and in a lovely fashion

Happiness is the sunrise shining directly in your eyes,
enough to expose a light that warms your face
but not so misplaced as to burn your skin.
Happiness is in every bite of a creamy cake,
every bitter mistake erased and a poem
that solemnly says "maybe happiness is different-
for everyone".
But does happiness exist? Ask yourself what you may,
I know to this day, I still smile at the sight of her photo;
I still feel hollow when I remember heart wrenching moments,
and at this point I'm an open book to people who see me.
Life is filled with bitter-sweet moments, a smile and a hurt,
a flower and a dirt, a magical kiss and a curse.
So happiness to me, is in the eyes of everyone I've ever held,
the melding mesh that envelops the heart, not to feel frail,
not to feel stale, but to remind ourselves that "we are living-
because we are smiling".

Happiness is the sweet moments of the bitter-sweet mix,
the little kisses on sunny days and the little things
that remind us that through all the trouble, **WE ARE LIVING.

As she has before
So she will after.
As he has before
but he hurts after.
As she has tried
so she will try again.
As he has tried
he has given up.
As she has met fate
she shall greet with love.
As he has met fate
shall he learn to let go.

As she has found love before
So she will find love after.

*As he has found love before
he finds it no more

Don't don't don't
look at me for kindness
I I I am not a kind man.
Though you can carry on
this path is hard for me,
I won't won't won't
cherish all these thoughts.
So run run run
along I'm going my own way,
I won't won't won't
let you stop me.
I won't won't won't
let the ghost of you
ruin this for me.
Though my heart may carry on
this won't be cherished thoughts
and say what you may but
I won't won't won't
lose another breath for you.

I am a pen
Safe in a warm hand
I can write poetry short stories
Even novels
And I am always put away safely
Ready for the next time.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2017.

Thank you fighting Irish,
for standing at my side
and I will do the same for you-
as I share in Irish pride,
it's time for every Irish heart,
to come out from where they hide,

We have come amazing distances,
from oppression at our throat,
and we wear some real
deep battle scars,
in an Irish fighting coat,
as we sailed in ships from an irish loam,
as we sailed
in freedom's boat,

All we came -
to this place
yeah we all came the same,
an our happiness-
it was the goal,
in our knowledge
that all hard work pays off
well so knows the diamond
from the coal,
and happy is the little fish,
finding comfort in a shoal,

An it's tattooed on our skin to see,
on an Irish skin so fair,
and in every Irish freckle seen,
it marks connection that we share,
an I don't have to guess at all,
how much my Irish Brothers care,
it's never too much to measure in,
the familiar things we bear,

The same for Irish sisters too,
and all of any other race,
as we are all connected true,
in all the light and colored face,
the color of your skin does not,
provide one with their grace,

We all can be some
Boondock Saints,
like my badass Irish kin,
we all share our connection deep
down below the earthly skin,
to think that what you do -I do
if you do wrong,
then I too "sin"
an we should not be fighting here,
if we join hands-
then we all win,

So I send an Irish blessing
to help you on your way
an I know that you don't need it
but I hear the bagpipes say,
that we have still much work to do,
before we all can hear it play
so as I get down on a bended knee
and again this morn' I pray,

And yeah some hands
were made for fightin'
all defendin' Irish wing
well I hope St. Christopher
he stay with you
until the final ring,
and bring a comfort
to your heart anew,
the kind that only real love bring,

I hope it finds you well
and happy -
an you be contented with your life
an I hope that all are grateful,
for every child, man and wife,
the best time to count your blessings
is when you're knocked down hard
with strife,

So I am sending you my Irish love
I sing laughter
- living mirth
to spread the seed so wide,
an defend from hell
on  Earth,
returned we are to innocence,
returned in death from birth,

I pray for all a peace to come
that one day all will know
just exactly what it's all been truly worth.

Ma Cherie © 2017