It could be the shimmer of a fresh new book,

a beautiful crimson red cover and with a golden glazed spine

Or, mist coming from a delicate coffee from The Strawberry Cushion,

 as big as Washingtons nose on Rushmore mountain.

 Or, a mauve Thistle with a shamrock stem turning through the chilly breeze,

 moving like a dancer.

It doesn’t have to be a stuffed plate of brilliant mouth-watering spaghetti,

 crimson red pasta sauce, 

sphered meat-balls with flavoursome veg on the side.

Or, the whispering whipping wind, 

biting my skin with razor sharp teeth.

 Or, the loud screech and scream of the trains

Sliding against the tracks, making my poor ears ache.

Be curious like a young me in the mall going,

 to see Santa and get a peek at all the wonderful toys that look like an angel.

 Or, the dancing stars at night,

lighting up a walk-way to the above,

 the twinkling ball of fire is so majestic in the sky’s black coat in front is the ship of the night with its crewmates.

Just pay attention to the compact things that life has to offer,

 when the balls of cotton in the sky make a heart thumping like a rabbit,

Take it as a sign as your opportunity to shine and be the best version of yourself when possible,

Grab resources from our earth and make it something magical.