Contentment Poem by james watkin

1/

Contentment will not be prized
By any autioneer.
Its first retreat is heart-sized.
It is that sincere!

Inner calm is its own hearth;
Its own basis for home.
Cold the comforts roomed without.
Mere adjuncts, wall and dome.

2/

Upon shifting currents of
Emotions, isled.
Anchored, in a storm-proof cove
What, with headmast, riled

Tormented staggered, being swept
Up in suds of sulks.
Out of angry seas have leapt
Burnt out hulks!