laughter

In the quiet of my bedroom,
A symphony of joy begins to play.
It starts with a single note—
A chuckle from dad,
A sound as familiar and comforting
As the soft hum of a violin.

Then, like a chorus joining in,
Mum’s laughter cascades through the house,
A melodious echo that seems to dance
On the walls and pirouette around the corners.

Her laughter is a warm breeze
That sweeps through the corridors,
A golden light that seeps under doors
And through the cracks,
Illuminating the dimmest of spaces.

It’s the sound of raindrops on a tin roof,
Rhythmic and lively,
A reminder that the sky is shedding tears of happiness.

As I sit, enveloped in the soft embrace of my duvet,
The laughter finds me.
It’s a gentle tide, lapping at the shores of my solitude,
Inviting me to join in the ocean of mirth.

The walls, once silent guardians,
Now resonate with this vibrant energy,
As if the very bricks are giggling along,
Their laughter a subtle vibration beneath the plaster.

The house breathes with a life of its own,
Each room echoing with the remnants of shared jokes
And cherished anecdotes.
The air is thick with the scent of love,
A fragrance more intoxicating than the richest perfume,
Crafted from years of shared smiles and inside jokes.

Laughter is the heartbeat of our home,
A pulse that quickens with each shared moment of silliness.
It’s the brushstroke of color on the canvas of our lives,
Turning mundane moments into masterpieces of memory.

In this house, laughter is not just a sound—
It’s the architecture of our affection,
The foundation upon which we build our days.

And as I finally rise, drawn by the magnetic pull of their joy,
I realize that laughter is our language of love,
A dialect spoken fluently in the glances we share
And the stories we tell.

It’s the soundtrack of our existence,
A melody that will linger long after the echoes fade,
A reminder that in this home,
Love is always heard.