Disclaimer: Luna is not mine, she is JK Rowlings. I am just writing from what I see as her perspective.


I hear laughter.
I like the smoothness of it,
And the way it bounces.

It makes me beam.

I try to weigh it, save it;
I want to take it out on a rainy day and share it with Neville or Ginny.

I have found out however, that
Trying to measure laughter-

It is like trying to decide whether Nargles are black with white stripes,
Or white with black stripes.

It is to count the raindrops in a puddle.
A lake.
An ocean.

To say where the sky starts, and where it ends.

Measuring laughter is trying to capture a beautiful high note in my head,
But the note slips away, gracefully.

I realise that laughter
Is the feeling of sitting on a windswept hill,
With the countryside spread out below you.

It’s so wonderful to hear, to feel.
It's impossible to measure.

So unique,
That you can't put a galleon or a number on it.

Laughter. It tells me to Love, Live, Learn, and

Laugh.

The sky keeps my secrets,
In the puffy clouds.

In the blue and green bliss of a field,
The sky finds me.

I tell mother nature my secrets,
Ask her my questions.

Others absent,
I am enveloped in
the blue and white heaven.

I tilt back my head to the sky.
It matches my eyes when it is raining;
silver-gray.

A quaint truth I have come to love.

As I stand there,
The creamy white of the clouds cover up my day,
And I am left dazzled by the beauty
above my head.

The sky keeps my secrets,
In the puffy clouds,
In the blue and green bliss of a field.

It keeps my secrets;

All of them.