10 Tiny Joys That Deserve a Poem of Their Own

There are certain joys—small, quiet ones—that sneak up on me. Not loud or flashy, but full. Like a warm bed on a slow morning or an old song that knows exactly where to find me. They ask for nothing but deserve everything.
These are the tiny joys that feel like poetry. The kind that remind me: I’m here, I’m feeling, I’m alive.

• Slow mornings with a splash of sunshine
Times when there’s no need to rush anywhere or look any sort of way.
My bed accepts me wholly—bad breath, messy hair and all.

• Days where my heart feels lighter and my mind less cluttered
My heart brims with so much warmth and gratitude,
which in turn spills out as ink on a canvas—stories of hope being painted.

• Stumbling across an old song on Spotify
Which conveys me back to simpler times and childhood innocence.
All of a sudden, I’m ten again—
my mother’s beautiful face across from me.

• The taste of mangoes
And how it always remains the same.
I’ll always be assured of its sweetness and comfort—
how its yellow nectar drips down my chin,
reminding me of what happiness looks like.

• Dancing alone in my room
And how it causes my soul to leap in joy,
all sorrows momentarily forgotten.
I’m alive.
I am joy in motion.

• The first time I read the novel Lost for Words
I was charmed as I closely followed Loveday’s journey to healing—
and how I watched, mesmerised, as poetry blossomed into love
for Nathan and Loveday.

• The way my body feels after a brisk morning walk
And how in those moments,
it feels like I can conquer anything.

• Redemption arcs
In both fiction and in life—
the beauty of a rebirth after a ruin,
the sacredness in becoming.

• Honest and uplifting conversations
The ones that gently cracked you open
without leaving you bare.
The late-night convos that make you feel a little less alone.

• Being seen / acknowledged
Especially on days when someone sees you through your visibility cloak—
as though you’ve always been there.