Impatient I

Await like

A child

Upstairs on

Christmas morn

Or the

Family dog

At the

Gate or

Even as

Cream for

Your coffee

Yet I

Don’t know

Which is

Sweeter the

Hope of

Happiness or

The memories

It brings

And if

You’re lucky

You find

A little

Piece of

Heaven on

Earth an

Orchid a

Skipping stone

Your laughter

Bean it’s

These small

Things that

Reminds me

That the

Joys of

Paradise indeed

Are around

Me every

Single day

It is

Often the

Tiniest things

We overlook

While searching

For the

Grand things

It’s those

Silly and

Often most

Inconsequential things

That tickle

Us the

Most the

Giggle of

A child

The buzz

Of a

Bee or

The business

Of insects

At our

Feet it’s

These simple

Things that

Marvel me

And yet

There are

Somethings always

Hidden from

View except

To those

Willing to

Look we

Spend a

Great deal

Of time

Accepting at

First glance

When their

True beauty

Lies inches

From there

Take time

Dig deeper

Scratch surfaces

And behold

The wonderful

Treasures that

Are scarce

Except to

Those willing

To see