The Little Things

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  • Life

    The Little Things

    Awake
    Shaken by the sun on my face
    A warm cup of coffee, that first saving grace
    Birds chirp, and dogs bark
    The dew reminds me of the recent dark
    Still sleepy, I hear floorboards creaking,
    The smells of the morning, children in the street
    In the distance waves crash, mother earth laughs,
    These first few moments define our paths,
    I am tranquil, stretching my tight muscles and stiff bones,
    Garbage trucks, mailmen and cellular phones,
    Lawnmowers and hammers pounding,
    typical ammoyance, consume and surrounding,
    This morning is different though, they remind me of life,
    Like deep down I know that each movement is right,
    Its funny how sometimes things hold different meaning,
    All products interpreted by touching and feelings,
    hearing and seeing, the floor to the ceiling,
    There is nothing much better, at least this morning,
    as the smell of a fresh newspaper, next to strong coffee pouring,
    I despise cigarettes, but my neighbors smoke lingers,
    harmonizing with my senses like gospel singers,
    This collage of perceptions combines with my aware state,
    Even a papercut somehow feels great, always suprised by the joy life can bring, Its not the big picture its in little things.

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    countrypoet commented on The Little Things

    12-24-2009

    Very nicely done.This is a very beautiful and inspiring poem filled with so many vivid images and great wording.It is smooth and progressively intriguing.I especially like the last line as it states the truth.Life holds so much beauty in the little things if we only stop and enjoy the moment. Terry

    dtalks

    12/27/2009

    Thank you so very much I am glad you enjoyed it

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

    Unknown Source

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