It’s not in the number of dollars we earn
Or in how much treasure we lay in store
The measure of pleasure in life’s return
Depends on Who we are doing it for
It’s not in whether skies are gray or blue
Or what this-or-that’s ultimatum will prove
The pleasure of all that we say and do
Depends, in the end, on its measure of love
How hollow the loveless laughter cold-rings
How shallow the self-aggrandizing toast
How lovely are life’s simple, common-place things
When love is the reason that matters most
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!