what is perfect - or - do you need to ask

what is a perfect day?
does it start with a stretch and a kiss,
maybe end with a red sky night,
promising yet another, pleasing to the sight,
filled with meetings of chance,
perhaps noticing a flattering glance,
or one more drunken silhouetted dance,
the magical strobes they seem to ehhance,
a restful coffee with feet up for a while,
seeing someones good fortune, you smile,
a flavoursome meal with company of choice,
or down the karaoke bar mimicking the latest voice,
maybe a satisfying days work, knowing youve done well,
having smug delight, when hearing the clocking machine bell,
driving your way home to family's warm embrace,
glowing with simplicity upon seeing a 'welcome home' face,

what is a perfect year?
finalising the deeds to your next dream home,
filling it with kitchens and bathrooms of chrome,
passing a driving test, yes so hard to believe,
graduating with honours you worked hard to achieve,
meeting your love, with them minutes turn to hours,
with every encounter, loves growing like flowers,
until down the ailse you'll both one day walk,
then when will we hear tiny feet, they all squawk,
maybe its the year you can retire from your work,
seeing people heading out for another days toil, you smirk,
theyve just had a baby, your a grandparent at last,
your kids were just little, how time goes so fast,
the years move with haste, they seem to fade into one,
no sooner singing auld lang syne then another one's done,

what is a perfect life?
can this be gauged at the end of lifes mime,
or can we stop and decide at any given moment in time,
you have acheived your set goals, dreams and ambitions
devoured and conquered all of lifes given missions,
a sense of propriety or maybe just peace,
you owned all your life, never held it by lease,
or can you determine by the circles you kept,
the people you loved, the people for whom you wept,
can you say trully for you they'd weep too,
when you were gone, would they tie a yellow ribbon for you,
the value of life is the mark that you left,
not carved into stone with meaning bereft,
but in anothers heart, carved mark you should leave,
then in all your abscence, your joy they would grieve.

c.d.lee