Smell the Roses

A poem about taking the time to enjoy nature

Peddle to the metal,
fast is the only speed I know.
Rushing thru the valleys,
because I don’t want to feel the lows.
I dare say that I don’t allow
the grass to grow beneath my feet,
and of the same token,
I rarely hear the birds sing.
The concrete jungle is no place to smell roses,
lay in a field of wildflowers, or be
oblivious to time as it passes.
Here you watch the squirrels play
when they dare to cross the street.
Their playmates are the cars they dodge
and more than half the time they admit defeat.
When spring arrives and the sun is so bright
I want to take my foot off the peddle,
take in the pretty columbine and elegant lilies,
and smell the country air; fresh and peaceful.
I want to take a dip in a real stream
instead of the one the sprinkler leaves
when my neighbor waters the grass and the concrete.

Rush, rush, rush...
go, go, go...

that is all my life consists of anymore.
I need to take the time and enjoy nature
because time will surely pass me by,
and I could miss it all
with a quick blink of an eye.


Word count 203
Line count 30
Winner of Stormy's Poetry Contest using words
valleys lilies stream wildflowers grass birds columbine squirrels