Its The Little Things…

It’s the little things painting the grand picture of love. I miss them so…
Our shopping trips, surprises kisses between the parsley pick up and yogurt stock up.
Did you get the avocado? Milky or Creamy Brie?…just kiss me and lets get both.
I remember the touch of your hand checking on my knees if they were in need of your warmth.
Your healing touch, if in a kiss, an embrace, made all the pain and worries disappear.
There was harmony around us, we existed in a balance of bliss.
We always had our songs, instantly sparking a smile as we started singing along.
Then you kissed my hand.
Every love song we ever heard made perfect sense, simply as it was our religion.
Then the quirky little sayings we only knew the meanings of.
Smiling as I remember the countless nicknames to which I responded to as you called out for me.
Each one was a name of love you had created just for me.
Shiny floors, sliding in our socks, coming in for landings yet for another kiss.
Light switches everywhere but no light…we’ll get it right one day and pick up bulbs.
You smiled so as I always remembered your two cardboard coffee cup holders.
And yes there was a kiss after that too.
Biggest hugs goodbye in the doorway, to only follow bigger Welcome Home kiss attacks.
Little park.
The Tree.
Hidden notes.
I need to add these to the 54 page list I made that reminds me of what was…will always think of these with a smile and a tear.
My heart is dwindling away, loosing it’s purpose like a candle and its dying flame.
The painting is loosing its colors, fading away into a colorless world…a blank canvas…nothingness.

One thought on “Its The Little Things…

Your Thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s