The Little Things Poem by Lauren Beasley

I love the way it sounds
When I run my nails
Up and down the piano keys
Or how the scent of a loved one
Lingers on your hands
After they've gone
I love how in dead silence
You hear nothing so loudly
The slightest brushing of fabric
Its own symphony
When I sit in my car
After coming home
And in the dark,
Listen to the engine tick
As it and I wind down
And breathe a sigh of relief
After a long day
I love when it rains all at once
And is over
Before you can acknowledge it
How the pavement smells
After a brief storm
And steams in the glaring sun
I love when I hear
The shuffling of feet behind me
And know exactly who it is
That is making an approach
Or the sound that scissors make
As strands of your hair
Are carefully trimmed away
I love the way my bed feels
When I come home from a long trip
The cool sheets
Soft and familiar
Envelope the burdens of travel
And smell sweetly like home
When a room is quiet
And you hear the gentle ticking
Of a clock somewhere
In a forgotten corner
Reminding that you may stop the noise
But life, like time, moves on
I love the soft glow
Of a naturally lit room
As the afternoon sun
Illuminates gently
Through thin white curtains
I love how I can be satisfied
With the little things in life
Much too often over-looked
But admired by me
For their individually distinct beauty