i think to an extent, i am old fashioned. let them pursue their little joys and happiness. life is quaint living a quiet life in a house with little happiness.

happiness is when you love the man next to you,
when he wakes up in the morning, looking 10 years older than the night before.
A sequence he repeats each morning you open your eyes to,
a little something you never get bored of.

happiness is when you made breakfast and you see everyone at the table together.
happiness is when babies stayed smiley and cry only when they hurt and your hear melts in your mouth, when you see the eyes so blue.
happiness is when the night falls, you lay by this man you gave yourself to,
every bit of him you never fail to be amazed.
a movie to spend your time with your man, simple. happiness.

a cup of coffee on a wet afternoon, a lazy cookie and feet playing footsie under the coffee table.
a quick jump in the showers and a good old massage for two.
a gentle kiss on your lips as he returns from a night with the boys.
a smile everytime you read something that reminds you of your past youth with him.
a swat of the ladle that hit the food thief when you are away from your cooking.
a stroll in the park, hands locked and fingers twined.
a ring made of grass in show of creativity in the poor days' storm.
a peaceful sleep just holding each other close.
a whiff of his scent, makes the bees weak to fall and you'd go right through the ground.
the 1st born, he smiled, a tear like never before and his heart is in your hands,
for you are the mother of his child.
you gave the light in the night and he played knights and kings all day long.

an old tv set, some old movies, horror to scare you right into his arms and romance to keep him
snoring into yours.
the little funnies he made that you laughed all over the kitchen counter.
the farts and barfs and burps you played together when the light is out and no one is around.
steal a kiss from him in front of your kids early morning, family day out and school's day,
your kids go yeuuckss and both smiled that little moment kept you together.
grow old together, fingers still twined, hands still holding and lips still touching.
his warmth in your bed, his arms to protect you from the boogie monster and the blanket you called ours.

look how day turned into night and days into years and years into ...
that little quaint life...