The Little Things You Do
by
Betty Eskdale
(Age: 63)
copyright 08-17-2001
Age Rating: 10 to 127
It's not the fact you married me, or that you are true,
That makes me know you love me, it's the little things you do.
The comfort that you bring to me when I am feeling blue,
Your sweet and gentle watchfulness that warms me through and through.
You seem to know when I am cold, you rush to cover me
And in your gentle arms enfold me, so protectively.
When I count my blessings, I just thank God for you
Protective and possessing, and the little things you do.
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Thanks Bev and Rachel, it is so nice to hear! Do you ever wonder if you have any more good poems in you? Seems like it either comes or it doesn't, it seems that struggling with an idea usually means it isn't really right for you. I would like to write about my little grandson, but he is so dear to me I feel I couldn't do a good enough job, know what I mean?
I feel so honoured by the lovely comments and I am overjoyed to read some of the great writing on this site. I have trouble expressing that sometimes, but I hope that you realize how heartfelt my comments are, keep up the great work, John and Robert.
Betty, thankyou for your nice comments on my work they are much appreciated. It makes writing all the more worthwhile when people say how much they like ones work. I believe every writer has their own voice, their own way of seeing things; I think your voice is cool and when I get more time I will pop by and read some more of your work.
Keep on counting your blessings. I hate to boast but, our family is very supportive of each other, and the "little things" are also sibling traits in this family. Beautiful poem, Betty, simple yet eloquent! (I like to toss in a big word sometimes!!) Love, Buns
Thank you for the wonderful comments. I used to think poetry had to be big words with a sophisticated message and I am not into that. I just write rhymes that please me with a rhythm that makes me "dance inside my head" that stay memorable to me for years after. When I have that feeling, I submit. It is like a painting, you need to know when to stop.