Poem About The Little Things Novels & Stories

he also remembered about the past when his parents was murdered in cold blood. FLASHBACK OF YEAR'S AGO. LITTLE LEON'S POV. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky. When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all night. Then the traveler in the dark, Thanks you for your tiny spark, He could not see which way to go, If you did not twinkle so.

All alone Trying to address The life’s goal Your important role Your importance in life’s role Extinguishing the fire When late at night I fight each day Each day, when it turns to night Getting up early has helped my mind But what I have lost Is all my time I do not regret The fun I lost I lost the joy Of being at rest With it, I lost My roof and Ability to invest time For my bread But the world doesn’t improve The way I think Much burden this word Heaven Has given to me Still deleting it From where I go But I go a little The world won’t play A similar role A similar role Silent thoughts Still, wake bold I feel the burden From all ways But I do not threaten life I do not quit living For I k

The paper said- 'My dear husbands, wish you a very good morning. I hope you slept well and not missing me much. I'm in the kitchen waiting for you so please take a shower first and get ready then come downstairs. The chocolates are for you. Bye. Your Pequeña bebe Charlatán and Amor'

‎ ‎They tell stories. ‎ ‎Not of grand battles. ‎ ‎Of ordinary love. ‎ ‎Of choices made in small moments. ‎ ‎Of love that lasted through time. ‎ ‎Of light that lived in daily doing. ‎ ‎They sing. ‎ ‎Soft at first. ‎ ‎Then strong. ‎ ‎The garden sings with them. ‎ ‎The oak rustles. ‎ ‎The flowers bloom brighter. ‎ ‎The light lives. ‎ ‎In the quiet. ‎ ‎In the ordinary. ‎ ‎In the love.

But tonight, I let myself smile into the quiet. Sometimes, the smallest actions are the ones that matter most.

Everything had changed. And the particular miracle of it was how quietly it had happened, no single dramatic moment or there were dramatic moments, there had been, the but they had not been the change. The change had been the ordinary accumulation, the second mug. The rinsed bowl, the candles lit without being asked. The eggs on Tuesday. Small things, repeated. Until they were the shape of a life.

The kind of moment that would probably slip out of everyone’s minds by the end of the day. But later much later I would think about how these little things had a way of adding up.

People are too busy to be concerned about the dead. I am here because he has touched my life in an amazing way. He made me a phenomenal woman. I never in a day doubted his love for me. He never wanted my skin but he wanted my soul. It has never been about money and status. He knew that the little things do matter. Little things like I love you,I am sorry and a simple how are you? I button the buttons of my coat. This morning is windy and the wind is blowing up my coat. I clear my throat as something was stuck on it making it difficult for me to utter a word.

She asked I suddenly remembered the small poem in the book I have shared with Lea "Think of me, our time might come to an end. In a blink, you might be blind to see me." "I am on the brink of the cliff, can you catch me? I am shrinking, will you see me?" "In a wink, there's only one eye. In a heart, there's only one side" I haven't given attention to it but, it did affect me. Little did I know, it was the end

“It makes you notice the small things.” “Like what?” he asked, leaning slightly closer, though still respecting the space between us. “The way someone stirs a pot,” I said, smiling. “The way they watch the rain hit the window. Little moments that tell you… they’re human, real and thoughtful.” He looked at me for a long moment with steady eyes and I realized he was considering my words as carefully as I had said them. Then he laughed quietly, the sound was low and warm. “You notice a lot,” he said, shaking his head.