Out of rosebud lips
Set in honey-hued skin
Love begins to speak, again.

And to hearts it whispers,
"Now listen to me friend."
Then leads that heart astray.

Within windows of desire,
Now flung open wide, it inspires
Many a Billet Doux, sweet love notes

Written from me to you.

Once the ribbons of colors, layered
Peach, tangerine, deep lavender,
(Which cradled the struggling sun)
Decide the child has grown enough
Up and out into the world's view
It slides breaking free of its bands.
It is a new day, and it reigns in glory
In the clear blue of the sky of day.

Rain-scented perfume, this
Aromatic smell of rain-soaked earth
Monsoon-infused, centuries-old.

A man turns his head towards the laughter
As he crushes a batch of ancient clay.
Knowingly his attention returns to his family.

It is the smell of the baked, parched soil
When the first rains arrive after the drought
Which concerns the artisan of scented oils.

The enticing fragrance fills the air
With each precious drop of heavy syrup
Eked from the ages, eked from eternity.

Captured in the tiny bottle, power-filled.
The process has survived the fall of civilizations
And empires and conquerors.

It is said to have healing powers.
Aged like the land and its ancient people,
Deep and rich, the liquor of the essence of time.

It must come from this land, this people.