Addicted To The Prettier Things

By Janae Smyth

She’s addicted to prettier things in life

She’s not afraid of causing a little strife

When the sun starts to set

She looks not at the west

The pink and purple is just as pretty as the rest

A mountain view she loves but a fern in a crevice holds her attention

She sees the poetry of how something so eloquent

Can grow in a stone cold place in segregation

In the ferns and flowers she finds redemption

She feels pretty in the trees

Caresses the bark and high fives the leaves

For all the pretty things she sees

She’s as sweet as the honey bees

Just out there giving mother nature gratitude

She swears it’s the only thing that’ll adjust her attitude

Insects will never harm nor fear her

They make friends and loyally follow her

She sees poetry everywhere

Like how the sun kisses the dry grass with such intensity

Wind blows through with that pressure density

Erupts in fire for all to see

Allowing natives to grow and seed like banksia

A burning love Mother Nature created like back to Pangea

From the flora to the fauna to all the beautiful smiles

She’s addicted to the pretty things making life worthwhile

Like the cleansing of water that flows

Wrinkles we collect as our wisdom grows

The way our hair grays and the young turn more vibrant

How true love doesn’t need any requirements

In the way our shadows stretch till they’re one with the ground

How rock smooths from years of rain pound

How grass cover brings colour to the everyday

And the lack of, we trust to pave the way

How when the breeze is cold

A lovers embrace is comfortable to hold

She sees the feeling of love between the lines

Of a slightly tilted head and squinted eyes

Happiness rounding her cheeks she cannot deny

Wandering the wilderness in fields she’s dancing

Songs of love and tenderness she sings

She’s addicted to the prettier things

Because beauty isn’t something to posses

It’s something to observe, make or bless

So in the mirror at night when she gets undressed

She admires the body that accompanies her

For it gets her to all the places a vehicle could never

With eyes that only see the light, it’s from darkness she severs

Like an angel caught up in strings

She’s addicted to the prettier things

By Janae Smyth