It is the little things in life, which mean so much
They are very quietly innocent
Like the wondrous feel of a clean bed sheets touch
Infused with an April Fresh Downy scent

Waking up startled at a quarter past eight
Jumping up straight from bed
Thinking worriedly that I am going to be terribly late
Remembering, it’s my day off instead

Coming to terms, that to my name, I’ve not a dime
Accepting my usual penniless lot
Then there in the pocket of my faded jeans I find
A crumpled up, forgotten five spot

Sitting down now with my paper and pen
Searching for words to write
Thinking to myself, my mind has gone blank again
Then finding the ones, perfectly right

To win the lottery or an all expense paid vacation
Would be so incredibly nice
However, I will settle, for these small sensations
Any ole day of my life