An Unsuccessful Poem of Wooing

Little things reveal secrets
Of violets and coffee beans,
With violets hinting of other gifts, and
Summer laughter of seasons yet to come.

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Big things are made of little things,
A peck on the cheek out the door,
Dishes shared and washed as prelude.
Years together from minutes and hours,
Reading, sleeping, waiting in line for tickets.

Happiness sneaks in unawares
In between the little things
That blush to keep it secret
Though sometimes betrayed
By coffee freshly brewed — waiting.