JULY 2021 = JOY


Kassie Runyan

United States

I wanna grow old

hanging on to your arm

for support

as I stumble down

the cobblestone street

I wanna find my calling

and get rich

ok, maybe not that rich

just enough to buy a house

in the south of France

watching the chickens flutter by

as they try to fly

drinking too much wine

(us not the chickens)

and not worrying about the wrinkles

showing the passing of time

just the joys

as the sun sets behind

the rolling hills


Mel Haagman

United Kingdom

The laugher that’s wholesome
Comes straight from inside,
The laughter that’s real
You’re unable to hide.
Nothing compares to laughter
When your stomach is in pain,
Even if you don’t feel it,
It helps you to stay sane.
The laughter where your cheeks ache
Is what I truly treasure,
You can’t overdose on laughter
There’s an infinite measure.
Smiling makes others smile,
Mirror neurons are so real,
And laughter has an effect
On how you deeply feel.
Reducing stress and even pain,
Immunity’s increased,
laughter is infectious
And endorphins are released.
Laughing is the best medicine,
In this life that can be tough
And if you can hold onto it,
It might just be enough!


T J Barnum


I raise windows at dawn,

hear birds call across the yard,

watch them sail past Palmas grass

to land in cypress green,

competing for honors in

Nature’s opera house.

Cool morning air brushes

tops of wild grasses,

rides flower bed borders,

delivers leaves to corners

and porches,

more punctual than

the morning news.

I measure out coffee,

let cats in, dogs out,

climb back into bed

to share your last moments

of lazy sleep.

Windows and my heart wide open,

birds bursting with delight

at the growing light,

coffee flavored breeze

stirring your tousled hair,

this is my best remembered

blessed touch of God’s new morning,

nestled here among pillows and cats

and your warm waiting arms.


Gerard Sarmat

Just like making use

of a fallow space —

which is way down

by our horse barn


— that surrounds

the old oak tree

and been there

for all 37 years


we have lived here

-- but now seems as

if fertile territory to

gather with friends


distanced because of

COVID -- I too feel

vital new Edens in

myself opening up.


Jonny Lindsey

United Kingdom

Even as a boy,
The joy I thought I should have
About becoming a man,
Overshadowed by those around me
Being coy,
About the struggles they’ve overcome
Just to smile,
Through pain, guilt, fear, & the whole spectrum
That we aren’t told about as youths
I never knew that joy is fearless,
You may know the dangers of the world
Yet we still find it in life,
We know the mountains made from mole hills
From failures & the past,
Yet as the cracks appear on our weathering faces,
We can still find that fearless feeling of joy
Where we can,
With familiar faces I always trace back to it,
Chin chin to Joy
From me now as a man,
Right back to when I was a boy.


Amanda Noell Stanley

United States

I ran the tip of my pointer

finger across the dusty glass,  

once shiny square cover, 

wooden frame too intricate 

to hold you.  


Smaller then – scrunched up,  

holding your stuffed fish friend,

superhero t-shirt and velcro

shoes. You were three. A new



I caught you at the top 

scooting from the platform 

ready to descend the curvy 

yellow plastic to meet a muddy 

yard below. It hosted more grass

before the slide, before you.  


A vertical merry-go-round, you 

climbed and plunged – holding 

your friend, green-bean grin. 


I wonder now: was it the top you loved 

most, the bottom, the trip up or down? 

Was it that you got to hold on to

something? That someone was

watching you – noticing? What made

you smile that beautiful fall day under

the stinky pear tree?  


Now, here it is, threshold moment

needs a good dusting. Placed  on

the hand-me-down piano next to

my fiddle. I see you  


when I do my own playing. 

Scrunched up just like you. 


Dedicated to Karti’s 5th Birthday

Sonia Pal

United Kingdom


Blowing bubbles in the air, being innocent and fair

Jumping in the puddles, giving kisses and cuddles

Seeing the rainbows and drawing them on the doors! 

Opening the presents received from the parents

Playing with balloons and sleeping in the afternoons

Watching cartoons and dancing to the favourite tunes

Walking hand in hand with MUM and taking a big jump

Maturing each day by sharing and caring without comparing

Counting the beads and Fred talk to read with due heed

Getting stickers from the teachers for being good leaders

Celebrating BIRTHDAYS after waiting for it EVERYDAY!

Splish-Splash of the bath and scrub-a-dub-dub with big laughs

Listening to a lullaby at bedtime and waking up at midnight

Holding on to the teddy bears tight and walking with great pride

Having little rides on Daddy’s back followed by a flapjack

Going on holidays with the family to add to life’s melody  

Waiting for the Tooth Fairy and falling asleep too early 

Having a picnic at the park and playing with football

Making a SNOW-MAN and saying, “I CAN!”

Crying over nothing, followed by the chuckling

Eating chocolates and candies like a grandee

Dressing up like super-heroes for the key-roles 

Making chains and trains with ‘James and Shanes’*

Giving a high-five while learning to drive

Licking the ice-lolly quite very slowly! 

Making up stories after breaking lorries!

Having playdates with favourite playmates 

Playing endless games without any complaints

Joys of the life are to relish and cherish it ALL. 

Through the NEXT stages of life and BEYOND.


*‘James and Shanes’ – friends 


Mike Ball

United States

Transformed by his accidental baptism, Lewis sprang from the goldfish pond.  For a dripping, sparkling moment. backyard magic turned him into a real boy. He never supplicated to mythical beings. Yet, Lewis played the Pinocchio role. Likewise dousing in wondrous waters required neither priest nor incantation. Lewis, a silly name (not his fault). Fearful mama’s boy (not his doing). Though awake, he nestled in a comforter of his mother’s protective attention. For two summers, I had seen him cry at everything and cry at nothing. He did not risk, not in trees nor rivers, not even on seed sacks at the co-op. Adventure for Lewis was poking a bean pole into the backyard pond. Its limited peril was two tubs deep, a bounded four by four by four feet. Perhaps the release to puerile fun led to his falling face-first to fishes. With the sudden spasm of the foolish, he leapt out laughing and wet. Very long water-lily stems draped over his frail shoulders. The magic of the pond waters instantly transformed Lewis. He was a real boy  — for 23 seconds. His moment of boyhood passed. He realized he could not sustain the abandon of his brave youth. His tears washed off the pond’s magic.


Kevin Ahern

United States

I’m was talking to a friend the other day

And she asked me, having passed sixty five

What I liked now about being alive


“Is it the joy of erupting in hysterical laughter?”

“Accomplishing a goal you’ve long sought after?”

“The feeling you get with the coming of spring?”

“The beauty outside with snow on everything?


“Perhaps the experience of falling in love?”

“The patterns high up in the clouds above?”

“The tastes of dinner and a good glass of wine?”

“The feeling you get when you’re dressed to the nines?”


Before she went further

To her I confessed

The answer was simple - “Yes”


Claudette Martinez



Scared shaken and torn, 

shouting inside, angry vicious violent  words. 

Words and images that are now tattered, thinning and worn.

Silently scream,

scrape your brain, pull and dig till it bleeds,

Search and seek for something it needs,

Anything that will hold you still, 

help you be found,

Keep your feet to the ground

Fill your lungs and finally breathe.

Take the moment,

take it it's yours!

Find space and strength,  

calm kindness and grace, 

That's where peace washes over your face.


Lynn White

United Kingdom

We feel free again

out here on the wild heath

and we’re whirling and twirling

like a dervish

with the devil in us

reclaiming our wildness

that was hidden for so long

when we were

just hanging on

our spirits sapped 

at home alone.

But we’re out now

feeling reckless 

with excitement,

jumping for joy

leaping with faith

ready to go again.


Nilofar Shidmehr, PhD


Unlike the rest of us in 2020, 

cherry blossoms don’t stay closed.

Neither do they hide

during the lockdown.

Under the warm sun, they fill

the season with their flourishing,

and touch each other 

with the tips of their branches.

They stand together in joy

against gusts of wind

and virus-shaped clouds

until they all fall.


Linda M Crate

United States


nature brings me joy

whether i am standing

among wildflowers 

in the mountains

or swimming in the ocean,

walking in the creek;

or strolling through the forest

with a strong army of trees

and slants of magic 

dancing through the sunlight

to kiss upon my skin stories of

old and new—

there's just so much peace

in breathing in fresh air,

of not needing to be anywhere at a certain


of being able to unfurl like a lazy cloud

etched in a blue sky dancing with sunlight—

i know for certain i need nature,

but i am not so sure i need the company

of many people;

i find tranquility often comes

when i am alone.


John Albiston

United States


at 6am we arise to pray

prayer starts our day

we then study the word

to gain great knowledge 

to uplift one another 

we share our plans

for the day ahead

people we teach happiness to

we get ready for the day

onward we go

as god's army

bringing joy to lost and weary

rejection comes our way

but still our hearts rejoice

our message to others is clear

hope, faith, and love 

we share

one knock 

on one soul's door

they let us in

how much joy we feel

as we teach god's word

their hearts are full

what a blessing it is to share

how great our joy was

on that blessed day


Jane Fitzgerald

United States

On many warm days

You will find a woman dancing

At the Battery

Her skirts swing out

As she gracefully moves

To the tunes of the trumpeter

She is not beautiful or young

Or rich or well known

Yet what pleasure she brings

To park seekers basking on benches

Canopied by whispering leaves

Glimpsing tiny light watery stars  

She dances in perfect tune

To the Earth

In time with the wind

In step by step

To loving life

My feet eagerly fly

Across city block after block 

Hoping to find her there

I hear the inviting rhythm

See flashes of flaming colors

And arrive with wondering awe

How can life be 

So in touch, so complete

At the Battery


James King

United States

Her name was the same as my mother’s

but I tried not to think about that when I felt her

hand and a jolt of hot electricity fired my blood

and shot it to two places, one of which was my face.

Would my cheeks set her hair on fire?


How incredible that just a few hours earlier she

laughed at my sarcastic jokes as we wrote Prayers

of the Faithful for the eighth-grade guitar Mass

at St. Rose. How amazing that she invited

me into her house and told me her parents

were out and her older sister was upstairs

on the phone with her boyfriend

and would be there for hours.


She said boyfriend like it was a promise.

Her hours sounded like a dare.


We were halfway through Love, American Style 

before I finally, finally put my arm on the back

of the couch behind her, careful not to let it touch her

because I didn’t want her to think that I was thinking

what I was, in fact, thinking but still she had asked

me over knowing that her parents were going out

and her sister was upstairs for hours and why 

shouldn’t I do this I was in eighth grade for god’s sake

and my arm was starting to hurt when it happened:


She reached up, took my hand, and intertwined her fingers with mine and with her other

hand gently stroked the top of my hand as we watched the show or, more accurately, she

watched the show and I wished Murph and Cleary and Kennedy could see this and then

I wondered if she had done this before with other boyfriends but as she leaned against me

and I felt her breathing and I smelled her hair all I could do was think whoever you are,

St. Rose, whatever you are patron saint of, St. Rose… thank you. Thank you. Thank you.


Kathryn Sadakierski

United States


In the morning sunshine,

Birdsong radiates like rays of light

Reverberating through the skies,

And for a moment, 

I put down my pen,

Quieting my thoughts,

Seeing inside,

And reflecting.

The world is 

So busy,

With no time to 


Looking without seeing,

Thinking without knowing.

In the stillness of the soul,

There are many answers to be found,

A voice to be heard

If only one pauses to listen.

Sometimes inner light cannot be seen

In the day-to-day frenzy,

The flurry of activities, 

Where everything competes

For your time and energy,


Pulled away from balance.


And restore; 

See the magic of each moment,

Beauty in everything,


On the abundance of blessings. 


Comes from peace within,

The joy

Of being present. 


Ed Meek

United States


When I was young, the two of them were young too.

At the beach at Brant Rock,

my father handsome and strong,

with his Elvis Presley hair

and Icelandic blue eyes, my mother,

slim and pretty with her majorette legs

and perfectly cultivated tan.

My father held me up

in the water and my mother

waved from her beach blanket

on the sand. This was before

my brother and sisters, those

uninvited guests, crashed

the party, back when my mother

was fun to be around

and my father was glad

to be home from the war,

working the only job

he would ever have.

Before we left we’d weave along

the shore, heads down

in search of shells.

I walked between them--

one on each hand. The three of us

happy as clams at high tide.


Martina Gallegos

United States

Lying in her bed, bedroom almost empty,

I listen to patriotic songs on Pandora, and 

I feel peaceful without the clutter.

Out of the blue, my eyes begin to fog up,

and before I can ask why, tears start rolling 

down my cheeks, and I can’t stop them.

I manage to get up and vacuum the bedroom 

but think about texting my therapist 

then decide against it, so as not to ruin her day.

I consider emailing a friend but realize, she,

too, is honoring loved ones who lost their 

lives for the freedoms we enjoy, so I don’t

email her either.

I suppose I shed tears because I’m happy I’m 

still here when others didn’t come back home.

I suppose tears can cleanse and liberate me

if the memories that torment my heart can’t.

And I wonder if shedding tears can lessen 

the sorrow I’d like to exchange for joy.

Future plans bring up the hope for a chance 

at better, brighter days without sadness 

if only I have the strength to get up.

I’ve risen from the deepest of precipices 

a handful of times and have overcome 

many obstacles, so I’m no stranger to fighting.

I will continue to rise and succeed and find 

my own joy in my daily routines.


Dimithri Wijerathna

Sri Lanka


The melodies of humming birds all around 

Fragence of roses spread around the air 

Butterflies flying in a row as colourful jets 

Sky in blue carpet with small cotton balls 

Sun glisten on grass twinkling the dew drops

Mind soothing with fresh air with new thoughts 

I jumped out of bed with new ideas 

Wow!!! My mango tree with fruits 

Hanging around all branches 

Sunflowers bending as to obey me 

Happiness with nature 

Heals my wounds in heart and mind 

I sang the melodies of joy with birds 


Paula Brown

United States

Last week,

even though the heat

of the summer (which broke

all known records)

was still raging (and humidity was

raining sweat down my back)

yet along came the wind 

rustling up from the west

breezing through the ranch

with a faint touch of cool, 

tossing a hint of fall

on that late day in August,

not caring that it was

a hundred something outside.

And at the same time

that the wind 

was mustering forth 

its unexpected foreshadowing 

(sprinting past pens

full of horses 

foraging their breakfast 

of fresh cut Bermuda),

a family of quail gathered

to guzzle down water

from a repurposed feed pan

sitting next to the fence, 


each morning and night

for the wild ones residing 

in this sun-drenched 


But there is more to this story

than the wind and the quail

and the horses munching 

on the other side of the fence,

because at the same time

that the quail were drinking,

a brownish-gray rabbit

with a puffball tail,

a youngster by size,

was slaking its thirst

unmindful of the quail, perhaps 

noticing the wind,

and what a sight!

all together and unafraid

that thirsty crowd of life 

partaking from the bowl, 

until I rode up on my horse

and the sipping throng


The quail hastened off 

in their single-filed parade, 

plumed heads bobbing forward,

the rabbit darting obliquely.

And the horse, oblivious

to the water cooler gang,

perhaps noticing the wind

as it teased and tempted,

though the summer

that day

just wouldn’t let go.


Devika Mathur


My lawns do not speak of misery to me now-

The tea in my teacup is a blessing                    I count ways to sip it

Butterflies fluttering through black carcass            as if pain never existed

they do it anyhow                  metamorphosis

I learnt it from them

from the birds in the orange sky                  about chest full of courage

about growing plants in the empty hallway,

                                              honeysuckled- morning dew.

Tangles of creepers            suspended ‘neem’ leaves

I say it to myself to touch the earth

                                    to touch and run.

To feel and be alive.

For I have an eye of fire          searing through the thin air

I say it again.                                   Iteration.

Palms resting on my lap now,

I bend and flex to say a little prayer                         a prayer about survival.

a prayer about smiles and wild flowers.                     I say my happiness is a disease these days.


Andrea Schrosk

United States


I have become the kind of woman who leaves the refrigerator door open

I have become the woman who runs down the sidewalk grinning

Released from the heat of the day

At 9pm and not yet dark

My bluetooth isn’t dead so

Led Zeppelin propels me down the street 

And why not hop the goddamn fence 

And hit the playground swings 

Pumping until there’s nothing but my pale blue shirt against the pale blue sky


Sarah Turnbull

United Kingdom


The gold and the green of the fields that surround you,
The last rays of late summer sun.
Rest for a while your adventurous heart
As the wild hares and holloways beckon you on.

You followed your heart and a map of the stars,
Bewitched by the nightingale’s song.
A wistful lament for the passing of time
But a nightingale never stays long.

Now a fox loiters slowly as stag darts away.
A barn owl takes to the wing.
'Be sure to tread softly as you pass through this place'
The wild hares and holloways sing.


Amanda Jane Bayliss

United Kingdom

The nightly walk by the sea

Offers something beautiful

To you and me.


The orchestra of the waves

The romance of the music

As we hold hands and kiss along.


Like two teenagers in love

Kissing and giggling

The world is our oyster

The pearl of our love.


Talking and dreaming

Of our destiny

A place created for you and me.

A place of our dreams

As we sing along

To the orchestra of the waves.


Sand between our toes

No wave too high

As we sing our little song.

Nightly walks by the sea

Forever they will stay

As our love will

Never be washed away.


Sarah Baldry

United Kingdom


I feel the sunrise, warm on my face.

And hear the dawn chorus.

Safe in my bed, 

Pillows of lace. 

I take a deep breath, 

of air filled with floras. 

I hear the car sing as you park her,

Music is heard by all who are near. 

The butterflies inside me stir. 

My love I am certain, 

I know you are here. 

As I open the curtain, 

You look up and see me. 

In my full naked glory

And I grab my kimono, so soft. 

I run down to greet you,

Then you kiss me so deeply, 

My heart is embossed.


Lisa Tomey

United States

She snapped the clasp shut on the pewter box, 

the one which held the sacred collections of her life

a reliquary of sorts, one might say, 

since all things enclosed were of the highest spiritual value.

There was a deck of cards, some worn on the edges

from being clipped to her bike spokes, 

making that motorcycle noise,

a skate key for tightening her roller skates to her shoes, 

allowing her the freedom to roll about in good spirit,

a bottle of mucilage in case she needed 

to glue together construction paper for paper chains,

a wishnik doll with the long hair and soft body, 

holding wishes never spoken out loud,

a record adapter to allow playing of a stack of 45s, 

all day long and into the night,

as the neighbors gathered around.

These were just a few things from her life, 

but oh, the spirits they stirred up, 

and when she sorted through her relics, 

she was once again a young girl— 

with no concerns for the day-to-day doldrums of life,

revived from the essence, 

the memories of childhood

and the innocence and joy it held.


Emecheta Christian


I want to love like I don’t know hate

I want to live like I don’t fear death

I don’t want to slave for money

I don’t want to taint my story

I want to be the best in what I do

I want to be rich and famous too

I don’t want to be remembered as one who just existed

I don’t want my name to also die when I am dead

I want to travel the world

I want to explore it as much as I could

I don’t want to believe those who say I can’t

I don’t want to believe that I can’t be important

I want to experience true joy and happiness

I want to fall in love and get married to an Empress

I don’t want despair to arrive and find the doors open

I don’t want to get my heart broken

I want to be self-reliant

I want to be no man’s servant

I don’t want to solicit for food or shelter

I don’t want to be enriched by loot nor plunder


Koyel Mitra


Joy can be found when You come near_

With pure, boundless love; me You smear.

When I doubt Your feelings sometimes,

Your love flutters like the wind chimes.

In my hard times, me You hold dear.


When mind is filled with excess fear,

Your whispers of blissful love I hear.

I weave our songs of love in rhymes_

Joy can be found.


When the sun is bright and sky clear,

With immense joy I find You here.

Love gushes in me like enzymes

And soothes me in sleepless night-times.

My whole life, to You I adhere_

Joy can be found.


Sarah Baldry

United Kingdom


I feel the sunrise, warm on my face.

And hear the dawn chorus.

Safe in my bed, 

Pillows of lace. 

I take a deep breath, 

of air filled with floras. 

I hear the car sing as you park her,

Music is heard by all who are near. 

The butterflies inside me stir. 

My love I am certain, 

I know you are here. 

As I open the curtain, 

You look up and see me. 

In my full naked glory

And I grab my kimono, so soft. 

I run down to greet you,

Then you kiss me so deeply, 

My heart is embossed.


Alan Bedworth

United Kingdom
Waking up to the sounds of nature,

is a noise to treasure like gold.

Walking on sun-lit beaches

leaving just footprints,

gives a warmth inside.

Entering woodland looking for wildlife,

keeps your senses focused and alive.

The day you get married,

your bride at your side.

Love encompasses your hearts,

on this special day.

Holding your first child,

has your emotions running wild.

Thankful for that moment of

cuddling this cherished being.

All these examples of life.

emotions and senses.

Gives us joy in being alive.


Sarfraz Ahmed

United Kingdom

When you stand next to me,

When it is just the two of us,

They’ll be no need for a celebration,

They’ll be no need for fuss,


They’ll be no need for a band,

Nor a grand a parade,

No need for music will be played,


They’ll be no statues erected way up high,

No fireworks star blazing the sky,

No posters,

No billboards,

No certificates,

No rewards,

They’ll be nothing untoward,


They’ll be no pin to burst the bubble,

The dream that resides this heart of mine,

Something that many search their whole lives to find,

For our love is something truly great,

Greater than any grand gesture of any kind,


Mantz Yorke

United Kingdom


The joy of a bright-washed morning:

a clear blue sky, the grass silvery 

from last night’s rain, the low sun 

burnishing beech trees’ copper 

and birches’ gold – the kind of day 

that prompts strangers to say hello.

We finish a slow circuit, surprised 

to see a white cockatoo strutting 

in the grass beside the car park.

I brush wet leaves from wheels 

and load her trolley into the boot. 

We head for home, exuberant.


Bill Chatfield

United States

let me be one of the people

safe and well under the canopy

of a midnight sky that lingers

through dawn


hide me from all dark unknowns

that lurk just beyond the edges

of my visible universe


help me to see through webs

of tangled discontinuities

to find the hidden threads of joy

waiting to be knit

into better promises.


Kitty Jospé

United States
  is simply to say1

I want my words

to reach you— 

the way those beech leaves,

hanging on paper thin

under the fresh snow

touched me today…

  and how they could

  make you think of

  a Japanese lantern maker,

  or fashion designer,

especially when the sun caught

them with its light…

This… such a simple word…

as opposed to that, an equally

simple word, in woods

filled with fresh snow

  where I swear,

  it made a panther,

  sleekly asleep on the slope of a pine

and a cat as king of the castle atop 

a midsize hemlock.

This … I want others to understand this

quiet joy observing— how it

brings you peace—

where nature is maker,

not man.

1line from Joyce Carol Oates, This is Not a Poem


Viktoriia Zabroda

It was my turn to know the joy: 

not motherhood, not acquisition,

not even fame or recognition,

or melting kisses of a boy...


You never know what life may send us!

It's just...He simply crossed my path

when I was polishing the grass,

sleepwalking in my worn-out sandals.


It felt so good to have Him near

without instruction or reproach.

He had his special approach —

I had no doubt, I felt no fear,


and He was patient with my blither...

Now there's a place my joy can hinge.

I will remember every inch

of that half-mile we walked together.


Robert Armstrong

United States

she smells of sunshine,

of pretty things,

of things

that make me dream, 

of better places,

then the reality

i find myself in,

of potted flowers,

of dreams,

wished upon

at night,


at stars,

while lovers 




keeping reality

at bay,

with their 



Laura Glaves

United States

Am I dreaming?

To be so loved

and cherished?

We speak softly

in romantic tones

and hold hands

as we stroll 

through lush gardens.

We giggle in the backseat

of taxicabs

whisking us away

before dawn 

to our next adventure.

We dance on rooftop terraces

to Parisian serenades

and dine under a canopy of trees

on the grounds of Versailles.

He kisses my hand,

and calls me his bride

after 30 years.

Am I dreaming?



Madhu Gangopadhyay


The dawn flooded the sky!

The toasted sun on the horizon arrived,

The actors of the dark delight, stealthily retired to rest.

They would till dusk to grace the stage of the cosmic hall.

The beautiful rose its petals unfurled,

The dewdrops glistening like the pearl,

Smiled and greeted the crimson curls.

The chittering of the morning birds

A melody to the aching ears

Such joys in nature abound!

That in human realm seldom sound

Selfless is the nature's love,

Showers benediction from above

Soaks each human with joys profound.

In mankind such is rarely found!

How the heart dances with joys when blushing twilight greets

Or when the carmine aurora is suffused with scented breeze

Joys of that kind fill the heart When men of honour display selfless art

Of sacrifice and valour galore;

Pride and elation multifold, inundate the mortal core,

With unrestricted pleasure the being soars

Let joys flood you whole drench you in its euphoric soul.

Like a thief is kept away keep all your mundane sadness at bay

Do not allow them to bother you, 

With elan that know so few, push them away leave no trace!

Let delight alone colour your face.

Like Euphrosyne infused with cheer and mirth, 

Stride this orb with grace, create a heaven on this earth!


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