A Sense of Happiness

Happiness is the sight of an auburn mountain top, covered with feathery white snow.

Glistening brilliantly as it reflects the gold rays of the warm sun.

Happiness is the feeling of silky soft puppy fur.

You run your fingers through and feel the warmth flowing through its tiny body.

Happiness tastes like steaming hot pie.

Golden goo licked off of sticky fingers and crispy crust you wash down with milk.

Happiness is the scent of a misty rain that falls to the ground, wafting the aroma of wet earth, perfuming the cool air.

Happiness is the clamor of a bright-eyed child at play, giggling, running, bouncing all around.

Happiness, while others may disagree, is quite touchable, tangible, and concrete to me.