Too Many Favorites
Blueberries, balckberries,
berries galore,
new mown grass smell
wafting through an open door,
bird and squirrel
who come to visit me,
or Coltrane jazz
playing warm and free.
When you get to be my age,
a hundred little things
become favorites you see ...
each moment precious and sweet,
every smile a warm treat.
for farah chamma contest "My Favorite Things"
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