Bits and Pieces

Please

Silky, pearl white petals float in the air

As spring infiltrates my sense of smell. 

The deep green of the grass

As I sit weaving my fingers through the gentle strands 

Is pretty close to perfect peace. 

The sunset, so far above me and yet so close, 

Displays its brilliant golden rays to all of those that can see, 

Each burst of light the equivalent 

Of a valuable masterpiece. 

The colors, each yellow, orange, and red, 

Vividly dance across the backdrop of a rich pink sky. 

Each factor of beauty and brightness 

Lifts my mood and makes my insides flutter 

As if a million butterflies are trapped, 

Practically lifting me off of the ground. 

A shiver runs down my spine, 

Though not unpleasant. 

The stars, though few during the sunset, blink, 

Sending out a steady signal to those who are willing to listen.

I look up towards the heavens, 

Wherever they are said to be, 

And chant one word. 

Please. 

It's simple. 

It's short. 

But it's a word that comes from deep inside, 

My heart grasping its meaning with heavy arms 

And pulling the simple word close, 

Almost unwilling to let it go. 

Please. 

It's the plead and cry for things wanted, 

For things the heart seems to need, 

Though often things do not work out the way we want. 

Our pleads go plummeting downhill, 

Into a pile of things once wanted, 

Once yearned for, 

But long forgotten since those distant times. 

Please. 

It's a common word. 

Polite and short. 

It could be used more often, 

And even though it does not get everything they want,

It's still used. 

Maybe those who say the word 'please' 

Have something bigger to want, 

Something larger to wish for, 

But all the same, 

People wouldn't use 'please' to get things 

If they didn't have hope.