A satirical view of the philosophy of happiness
as discussed by a professor and a brick layer.

Happiness

the west wing needed repairs
and so Bill Mason had come.
He'd worked hard all morning
and now the job was near done.
So taking flask and ham sandwich,
with a mind to taking a break,
he sat on a bench nearby
to enjoy the University landscape.
The Professor out for a stroll,
a post prandial meander,
usually sat on this bench
and rested before continuing his wander.
Saw Bill ensconced on the bench
large, and dirty and unkempt,
and thought it a bit of a cheek
but sat anyway to show his contempt.
Bill continued munching his lunch
and sipping hot tea from his flask.
His mind on the job to be done
with pride what more could he ask.
Then home to his wife
and a home cooked meal
and play with his kids before bed.
His life had much appeal.
Bill issued an enormous belch
thinking he was alone.
The Professor coughed politely
and Bill was mortified to the bone.
He begged the Professor's pardon
who said not to worry
and thus the ice had been broken
and introductions began in a hurry.
Bill Mason, Bill stretched out his hand
I'm here to repair the West Wing.
Oh right! The Professor replied
An appropriate name don't you think.
Bill smiled a thin smile at the joke
one he had heard many times
And you? Bill asked in return
Oh I'm a Professor of Rhymes.
Bill looked a little askance
The Professor now full of bonhomie
moved over a friendly space
Arthur Wordsworth-Shelley.
Bill thought to say something witty
but respectful of his place
merely shook the man's hand
and managed to keep a straight face.
An awkward pause ensued
each awaiting the other's advance
Bill unsure of himself
The Professor losing ill grace,
thought to say something pleasant.
So he asked how the job was going
so Bill said, seemed well at present
though sometimes there was no knowing.
You seem very well at ease,
said the prof, if you don't mind me saying.
Very comfortable in your skin
whereas me I'm always playing
one thing against another
and both ends against the middle
and finish up back where I started
no further in solving the riddle.
What riddle, said Bill, always willing
to help, more or less.
My thesis, bemoaned the professor
about the nature of happiness.
Well that's not hard, said Bill,
you've either got it or you haven't
and me I prefer the first
and as far as I know who wouldn't.
Yes but how do you know
whether you're happy or not.
Is it something you learn
as a babe in your cot,
or is it a more complex thing
full of imponderable twists
that make you doubt yourself
and the world as it exists.
Bill scratched his head a bit
it didn't seem complex to him.
Well let's take two men he said
one happy t 'other dour and grim
If you asked each a simple question
as to whether or not they're happy
the happy one would say he was
whilst the other might call you sappy
To ask a damn fool question of him,
but that doesn't alter the case
that everyone knows if they're happy
as I said in the first place.
I suppose replied the Prof
it's a matter of who's to decide
the person who's doing the asking
or the one with feelings inside.
The Prof got up bid farewell
and Bill wished him luck with his task
The Prof hoped the West Wing job
would go as well as you could ask.
then wandered on his way
Bill drank the last of his tea
and nibbled on the bits and tids
of his lunch and went back to thinking
about his supper, his wife and his kids.