Pick the Daisies and Smell the Roses

There’s dignity in walking barefoot
through new grass…
and joy.

Not like walking in stilettos,
aching back,
pinched toes.

At least
I suppose that’s how it feels.
I wouldn’t know.

I have never needed
designer shoes to smell the roses
nor to pick the daisies

that grow beside my door.
I find the scarlet cardinal’s frock
so much finer

than any garment
with an upscale label.
I have books to read

and flowers for my table.
Thank you, Lord, for the bounty
that you’ve showered upon me.

2 thoughts on “Pick the Daisies and Smell the Roses

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