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Missing The Big Picture
The water burbles as it trickles o’er the rocks,
The wind sighs through the trees. When will Summer stop?
Greens merge with greens, an endless canopy.
The birds seem to sing a song that lasts eternally.
Now Autumn has arrived, the sky is fills with geese.
The frost has finally come; now ponds and streams will freeze.
Leaves dance and swirl: brown, green, yellow, red.
Tiny beasts gather nuts, for when snows come, hunger makes the dead.
Winter sneaks up on us, bringing with it cold.
While we sit snug inside, reading tales from days old.
Snowflakes drifting down, cover the world with white.
See the moon, shining brightly, shining in the night?
Now Spring's first blooms burst from frozen ground.
Once silent valleys are alive with Springtime sounds.
Blossoms bright with color, strewn among the trees.
Out of the woods come chipmunks, butterflies, and bees.
Bunnies with noses pink and squirrels with bushy tails;
These creatures gather now upon the winding trails.
Now Spring has worn her welcome with her colors gay,
We want warmer weather; she can no longer stay.
No more flowers, no more rain; pack up your Springtime gown.
One question please, before you leave: When will Summer come to town?
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We truly are Missing the Big Picture. Take time to smell the roses, that's what my grandfather told me shortly before he died. We were on our way to church when we stopped all of a sudden. There was a herd of deer grazing in the field. We stopped to look at them, "stopped to smell the roses." My little sister asked grandpa what we were doing, he told her "Stopping to smell the roses." She said "Where are the roses."