A Lovely Day Poem by Paul Holmes

He stood at the bus stop

Black coat soaking wet,

The rain was pouring down,

Was his face one of regret?

No, he was quite happy

So glad to have took a walk

As, while all others looked glum

And had no cheerful talk

His outlook was much brighter

Even though he had been told

That cancer had taken root,

In his body it got a hold.

That rainfall, like pools of tears

Reflected their sad faces

Yet, to him it was a lovely day

Where no hint of mournful traces

Could be seen inside his eyes,

A young man composed, serene,

Standing with head raised high

For this lovely day he was keen.