The Inadequate Word

Soft

Is not word enough

To describe

The heavenly sensation

Of the fingertips as they

Stream across a downy wing

In a sleepy parakeet

Blue

Is unworthy of describing

The sapphire skies

After a sunset

When not a cloud is seen

And the stars stand out in

Brilliant confidence

Happiness

Is hardly fitting

For the feeling I get

That begins in my racing heart

And rushes to my finger tips

When I see and old friend

And I know

They're feeling

The same