I recline in my verandah, eyes half closed
Aware and keen – wondering what they do
What they think, what excites them
Why their hackles raise, the cows stroll past when.
What makes a day fulfilling, or does it ever not?
If happiness is found in just being
Then they remain that, almost every moment
A reassuring touch. No words, no comments.
Do they care if it’s a birthday or not? I know not
The cake with icing, an extra treat, or an extra hug?
Well, it makes me happy, and so it makes them
And they will continue to be happy tomorrow, all over again.