I never wanted more than this,
To feel happy, because useful,
And if greater happiness were needed
Perhaps to meet you later for a kiss
And if work were hard: a garden to be weeded,
As long as there was nothing sad or amiss,
I could look forward to that extra joy
With quiet joy. I never wanted more than this.

A sadness in darkness or rain
Afflicts those already afflicted with pain.
A sadness that creeps in with the shadows
Afflicts you and I, in vain.
Here is the window. I see trees in the distance.
Here is the interesting light.  Your kiss.
I never had a joy like this.




  1. maryangeladouglas said,

    February 4, 2016 at 4:35 pm

    It is true that poetic wonders never cease. Thomas Graves has actually written a poem with the word “happy” in it. Knock me over with a feather. And only a little creeping mist. But the mist is tempered quite admirably.

    • thomasbrady said,

      February 4, 2016 at 10:52 pm

      I wrote the poem yesterday at work in 10 minutes. I looked out the window with a rather distant view at the warm afternoon rain and was thinking just generally how lucky I was to not need too much to make me happy, and voila. It somehow captured the mood which is my soul.

  2. maryangeladouglas said,

    February 5, 2016 at 12:33 am

    It turned out very well. Interesting to hear the history of a poem; thenk you for describing it.

    • maryangeladouglas said,

      February 5, 2016 at 2:58 pm

      Some things I hate to say ‘out loud’ because as soon as you say them you feel they become thiner and waste away on the air but sometimes that is just an illusion and some things should be said anyway.

      I was thinking a lot yesterday about your identification of your own soul with your poem.

      This is a remarkable thing and I would say, even if asked by God, more than anything else, the single distinguishing quality of a poet in the real and eternal sense, which I believe you are, Thomas Graves, beyond worldly opinions or vagaries, just in yourself, or you would not have expressed it in exactly that way…

      “it[the poem] somehow captured the mood that is my soul.” being the line that struck me in your comment on how your poem came to be written.

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