Poetically Swinging

I often savored the smiles on my mother's and daughter's faces while they were swinging. I just love swings, and over the past few years I've offered nearly a dozen posts with similar references. What follows is one of my favorites. The poem is at the end.
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Happy Birthday. Happy Feet. Happy New Year. Happy Hour. They're all good, and they're all important - but not as much as Happy Place. Do you have a happy place? I hope so - although multiple happy places would be better.

Each time I've been in the hospital (no small number as my friends and family will tell you) the staff asks me how I cope with stress or manage pain. My response is always been the same: I close my eyes and go to my happy place. It works and works well. So if you don't have one, it's time to develop one. You never know when you might need it - even if it's only to help you relax a little.

Just do it. Mind over matter and all that sort of thing. It's free, and it'll be good for you. You'll be glad you did.

One of my favorites follows although it's not my most powerful.

I imagine peaceful moments on a porch swing.

     No time limits.
     No intrusions.
     No world.
     Just those I love.
     Sometimes speaking.
     Sometimes silently swinging.
     Simply being.
     Simply simple serenity.

TGB