Happiness P2: Around the corner

Happiness P2: Around the corner

A Story by Kathryn Smith

Happiness is just around the corner from you

Even though it feels like there is nothing you can do

When you're sitting in the dark there..

Happiness is just around the corner

Your loneliness is only temporary its true

and when you leave..you don't have to take it with you

You can put all that behind you now


(If Ireland could speak)

Ireland: Called you the other day; you picked up and said you've gone away...but you're not that far... So pick me up, don't let me down!

Me: Leave me alone. There's no need to be everywhere I turn...I have bad memories.

Ireland: I just want you to know; In my heart I cant let you go...I think you're pretty fine..and in my mind you're dancing all the time!

Me: What part of leave me alone do you not understand? GO AWAY.

Ireland: You can run..but you can't hide Kathryn. Sure, just have a pint...and then come back! There's more to see. More you could be...

"Are you ever going to go back Kathryn?"            

I sat on the edge of my the chair, wrapped up in a blanket, staring back at my friend Nicholle.

To my sadness, there were now times the thought of Ireland made me visibly wince. It made my stomach flip. My heart sink in sorrow.

I shudder.

I flick away thoughts and put myself in a happy bubble.

I realized as I stared back at my friend that Ireland has been in my life for as long as I can remember - and even if I tried to hide from it, I couldn't.

I could burry everything in the sandbox and it would still manage to spring back to me.

You cant run from who you are.

It's the sadness that hit me. The guilt of tucking away my favorite country.

I felt ashamed I tried to throw it away for a while.

All because of one person.

He may have stained Killarney for me - but the power to put a dent in my love for the country will not succeed.

It was the man in the pub who carried me in his arms for fun.

It was the woman who got off the bus and saw my friend and I off to the proper stop.

The anonymous person in Dublin who purchased my bus ticket.

The man with sparkling eyes watching me chase a pigeon.

It was the woman in Killarney who took me under her wing. She had dealt with the exact same thing.

It was Sean Heuston who has kept me company in dreams.

The people at Kilmainham who wanted to privately show me his cell, his letters.

My father's soda bread.

Brown Bread.

It was Niall who remembered me after so many years and welcoming me into his candy shop.

My friends Paul, Donna, Tony, John, Carla, the other John, and my ancestor John. (Why is everyone named John?)

The woman who wanted to drive me to town.

It was Jig Jam and We Banjo 3. The Killkennys.

The Script.

The welcome at the airport in Dublin.

It is and was the endless love and support and guidance that made me proud again.

And so of course - I'll come back.

I feel like shedding all my skin

Starting something new

I feel like I'm ready to begin

Find my own way through


© 2017 Kathryn Smith

Author's Note

Kathryn Smith

My Review

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I loved your idea Kathryn of composing two parts... sadness will be followed by happiness and darkness will be followed by light, so is life with different feelings and emotions- its a roller coaster! And here you've put in your efforts to express it through such beautiful poems.

Posted 1 Year Ago

I love the line "Your loneliness is temporary, its true, and when you leave, you don't have to take it with you". I think you're going to do just fine Kathryn

Posted 1 Year Ago

Part two. Hope you recover from this episode sooner.
Stay strong

Posted 1 Year Ago

I like the way the new fresh green is located 'around the corner' on the page K. That's a clever device you employed there.

The separate conversations are well delineated and unambiguous making it easy to read through and keep up.

Very nice write indeed (i may be biased...lol)

Oh and I am probably wrong but should the last word should be 'through' not 'though' for the slam-dunk rhyme!!

Posted 1 Year Ago

Life is lessons. I have Ojibwa, Mexican and white in my blood. I been called dirty Mexican, so I claimed the heritage with value. My Ojibwa/Mexican. I liked your story. Who we are and where we came from. I liked your thoughts in the poem. Took reader on a journey of understanding. Thank you Kathryn for sharing your amazing poetry.

Posted 1 Year Ago

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5 Reviews
Added on January 10, 2017
Last Updated on January 11, 2017

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