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The Little Things

*pic courtesy from pinterest  The little things the little smile the little flower in the corner aisle the little butterfly catches my eye along with  the hovering bee like sketches drawn in the sky look at the little ant fleet just close to my feet the little spider takes a warm seat the little girl who hops on the broken tile while her mother looks right across  the street from a mile I wave at her she waves back the little gestures the little fingers the little spider continues to linger the little heartbeats as humming treats while I pick up the little crumbs from my bread last night
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Sunflowers

Did bloom.
Right outside the window.
Of a room.
That was hidden...
Left empty and gloom.
Yellowish floral.
Like shiny coral.
Tricky when they danced.
Leaving behind a shadow...
Reflecting in the room.
That somehow.
Looked lost in some heirloom.
Childish flatter.
Collided flutter.
Seldom did utter.
Yet standing polite.
When darkness did follow.
Cautiously inside this room.
That knocked sanctity to its doom.
Right in front were those eyes.
That was caught up with too soon.
Unusually bright were the flowers that noon.
Only to be blamed later on.
For someone gone.
As steps were heard.
Retreating from the room.
That today stands empty and gloom..
And for the very reason refuses to bloom.
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