There once was a gal in high heels,
Who spun joy like spokes on her wheels.
She’d scream to the skies,
With no compromise,
Then dance till she shattered all feels.

Joy is the fire I fiercely chase,
In pink my forever riotous grace.
Give me magic, not absurd;
Make it dreamy, not blurred
I want García Márquez, not Beckett’s cold face.

Strawberry shortcake is my crown jewel treat,
But bread pudding? That’s my late-night feat.
Mojitos, I sip, with a belly so glad,
And schaudenfreude yep, even the bad.
It’s messy, I know, but still quite sweet.

The dogs? Oh,  the dogs! They reign supreme,
Little couch kings in every dream.
I watch them snore, a sleepy delight

Though I never let lying dogs win the fight.
Their chaos? My comfort. My offbeat esteem.

A summer storm makes my soul unwind,
With puddle jumps and thunder I find
That primal screams clear mental fogs,
More cathartic than talks with therapeutic blogs.
(And don’t get me started on the hungry mind.)

Christmas jingles in my marrow deep,
While confetti, not sprinkles, makes me leap.
Baths are potions, soft and steamy;
Karaoke nights? Loud and dreamy.
My joy is weird. My weird is steep.

I crave a full belly and road-trip maps,
Of beaches (minus sand) and jellyfish naps.
Penguins in tuxedos? Yes, please!
Airplanes though? Hard pass, no breeze.
Travel me softly, no TSA traps.

Stories unravel like velvet ribbons,
Mysteries solve my daily misgivings.
I scratch the surface, dig in deep,
Then laugh till I howl and cry in a heap.
It’s odd, it’s mine my joyful livin’.

So here’s to pink skies and long bubble baths,
To hearts full of love and misfit paths.
To dancing in puddles and screaming with glee,
To living out loud unapologetically me.
Just thirty things and one big laugh.