Smell The Roses

There was a man 

who took a walk 

everyday. 

Same path, same way. 

Everyday. Everyday.

He'd stop 

and smell the roses. 

Then he'd wave at Mrs. Smith. 

He'd pass by the Jones' and wonder 

how they kept their lawn so crisp.

He'd walk by the laughing children.

He'd smile and wave to be nice.

He'd look over at Mr. Muller's house

and wonder if he had paid top price.

Then he'd turn around 

and walk back home 

just the same way that he came,

looking again at Mr. Muller's,

the children, the Jones' and Mrs. Smith again.

And then he'd stop 

and smell the roses.

The roses that were blooming.

He'd breathe in once and breathe in twice

taking in all the fragrance they were exuding. 

He'd close his eyes and remember 

that his ordinary day

was not so ordinary when he stopped, 

stopped along the way.

Stopped to smell the roses. 

Stopped to take them in.

He enjoyed his day so much more

when he stopped to smell them

again 

and again.

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