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Where Joy Resides
Arlene Gay Levine


There are places we knew in childhood:
green grass blankets sprinkled with dew diamonds and early June blooms,
chocolate warmth of cocoa on a January day, the sweet smell of summer sweat,
†the sound of the drums coming
from far away for an Independence Day parade,
the paragraph in a book you know youíll never forget.

Oh, the cold crush of flakes forming winterís first snowball,
or the golden sparks of a clambake fire, such stories
told round the circle there
with the tang of salt sea spray perfuming the air.

So many pictures we all recall and hold them sacred still.
Yet tell me why of all of these
not one can take the place
of a certain day when fate decreed Iíd look
and see your face.

© by Arlene Gay Levine.
Used here with permission.

Arlene Gay Levine is an award-winning poet, author, and educator who lives with her husband in New York City. Her prose and poetry have been published in The New York Times, more than 30 anthologies, and in numerous literary journals. Arlene is the author of39 Ways to Open Your Heart: An Illuminated Meditation(Conari Press,) andMovie Life(Finishing Line Press). Learn more about her at


Post New Comment:
A wonderful moment, indeed!
Posted 02/11/2024 04:54 PM
Arlene Gay Levine:
My thanks and Happy Valentine's Day to all my YDP friends.
Posted 02/07/2024 05:20 PM
The title draws me into the poem and takes me to a great place. Nice ❤️ poem.
Posted 02/07/2024 03:53 PM
Beautiful! Thanks for sharing.
Posted 02/07/2024 02:49 PM
Lori Levy:
Great ending after all the beautiful images.
Posted 02/07/2024 02:22 PM
Sharon Waller Knutson:
Love this uplifting poem about the joy of winter and love. Perfect for Valentine's Day month. I'm a fan of Arlene's poetry because it is so inspirational.
Posted 02/07/2024 12:55 PM
The sweetness of memories with imagery!
Posted 02/07/2024 10:07 AM
I remember that certain day when I looked and saw her face!
Posted 02/07/2024 09:59 AM
Wilda Morris:
Lovely love poem!
Posted 02/07/2024 09:22 AM
Darrell Arnold:
For me, it's fireflies. They don't exist out West, where I have lived. As a child, I saw them while visiting friends in eastern Kansas. I never saw them again until I was past 50, when I visited Pennsylvania. I will remember those moments forever.
Posted 02/07/2024 08:28 AM
Larry Schug:
Where you are in this poem is a beautiful place, at least in my imagination. The last stanza takes (for me) an unexpected turn, which I like.
Posted 02/07/2024 07:34 AM

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