My favorite things be not things at all

Obtainable by those great and small;

Abundantly rich, yet at no cost

Without, one’s soul is surely lost;

Not a paradox, nor is it hidden

Yet some refuse as if forbidden.

No, not the magical orb of sleeping night

Against a backdrop of studded-ebony, shines bright;

Nor rolling hills and valleys of deep silver-green

A sea of emerald velvet, its folds do bear sheen;

Not iridescent beams shot from prism’s heart

Explosion of color-bursts, in and out they dart.

Not the voice of a choir, harmoniously angelic

Rendering sounds so peacefully euphoric;

As if sung by a flute a bird calls out

A passionate life-mate he’ll find, no doubt;

Not the sweetest lullaby, but oh how melodious

As softly stroked from a Stradivarius.

A sprig of lilac with its scent so bold

Or a night-blooming cereus, emanating sight to behold;

Smells of apple-cinnamon and boughs of fresh holly

Bring laughter, warmth and yuletide jolly;

The delicate rose….intoxicating perfume

Though none of these must you presume.

Instinctively suffuse then look within to find

Less a heart of stone, be you not blind;

Your heart and soul in their awe be filled

And forthcoming, inspiration willed;

What finer gift can one procure,

Than love of life, in highest rapture?
D.Faye Nail