Life is beautiful.
Look around.
There’s beauty everywhere.
In every flower.
In each blade of grass.
And in each and every insect.
Too much to take in at a glance.
But no one bothers to notice.
Birds.
Flowers.
Ocean.
Fish.
Clouds.
Sun.
All around us.
See the beauty.
Take in the beauty.
Appreciate the beauty.
A BORING AFTERNOON AT THE PET STORE
A boring afternoon at the pet store.
“What to do? What to do?”
the white cat pondered to herself.
The only movement was an annoying fly.
It flew around the store.
The four kittens followed the fly with their eyes.
In fact, they couldn’t keep their eyes off it.
The fly was black and furry.
It had unusual yellow stripes down its back.
The smallest cat wanted it for a new baby brother.
The Tom cat wanted to swat the thing with his tail.
The fly finally landed.
On the Tom cat’s nose.
“Ouch,” Tom cat screamed out.
“It bit me!” he said while rubbing his nose.
Fluffy, the big white cat, ran over to Tom.
She said,”It didn’t bite you but stung you.”
“Oh no! Oh no! What should I do?”
Tom ran around in circles.
The white cat moved closer to look at his nose.
“It’s fine. If it swells, we’ll put ice on it. It looks better
than the poor fly.”
The four cats looked down at the fly lying on the ground.
“It gave its life so it could sting you,” Fluffy said.
“But why would it do that?” Tom looked confused.
“It’s the way of life,” Fluffy said in a sad voice.
“I know! We should bury it with a service and all.”
The little voice came from the youngest kitten.
They all agreed with him.
Not having a yard for a burial, they wrapped the fly
in a tissue and were going to flush it down the toilet.
But first, the youngest, Squeaky, said a few words.
Squeaky was sad that the fly didn’t even have a name.
“Let’s call her Miss Bee,” Fluffy suggested to the group.
“Why? It was a fly.” Squeaky was upset.
“No, my dear, she was a bee. And that is why she stung Tom.”
Squeaky began to cry.
After wiping his nose and eyes, Squeaky agreed to call
her Miss Bee.
“Goodbye, Miss Bee. We’re sorry we didn’t get to know you
better. I hope you make friends in your new life.”
With that said, Squeaky flushed the toilet and watched
Miss Bee float away to her new life.
“Goodbye Miss Bee,” Squeaky said. “We’ll miss you.”
A PATH
A path through the trees.
Past moss and thick vines.
Bushes are shaking.
Animals are scurrying.
Leaves are falling.
Birds are fleeing.
I must get home.
The forest is dark at night.
Too dark to be safe.
I can’t move.
Vines are twirling around my feet.
I’m trapped.
The forest has taken me.
Love in unusual places.
Friends having different faces.
A species apart.
Right from my cold heart.
We’ll be warm in the snow.
I should just let you know.
I love your green eyes.
I hate long goodbyes.
Stay here with me tonight.
I’ll keep you close and tight.
Is that a meow you say?
I saved a spot in the hay.
The young hold the secret.
The secret to living.
A hop.
A skip.
A jump.
Each day brings
new experiences
and adventures.
Just hop, skip
and jump your way to
living and enjoying
life to the fullest.
MY SECRET
Sprinkle my path with pretty leaves and flowers.
I want to look at water and not towers.
Some color to brighten my day.
A place where the birds come to play.
I will walk to the end of the pier.
I’ll gaze into the depths without fear.
For I will only see fish swimming by.
And not any monsters lurking nearby.
Time will pass slowly and must be savored.
Whomever comes this way will be favored.
I think it’s only prudent and fair
To share my secret with those who care.
Take me to the light that shines bright
in the far reaches of the deep forest.
I want to bask in its heavenly glow
until the moon raises its spotlight.
Let the leaves tickle my hot skin
as I lie down on a sheet of grass.
Cover with me with a blanket of flowers
as bright as the rainbow overhead.
Sleep follows me to my private spot,
where animals frolic in freedom.
I’m floating in the sky above the branches,
looking down at my sleeping form.
Contentment relaxes my face
as my eyelids twitch in tune with my dreams.
Too soon the night will come,
bringing with it the dark and cold.
I must come back on the morrow
to finish the dreams I have just begun.
Stop and smell the flowers.
