There is something
about good food that is magical
The magnetic force of its aroma
gets your nose hooked even from afar,
gets your mind picturing its appearance
And when you have it before your eyes,
The mouth is all watered up like
soil after a heavy downpour of rain.
The teeth are warming up to squeeze
the juice out of the food
The taste buds are leaping for joy,
Ready to savour the taste
The muscles in the throat are roaring in anticipation for the food to go through like
a train going through a tunnel
The stomach is ready and eager to be filled
How magical good food is!

Amidst the sorrow of wilting petals,
Your spreading aroma
Make my heart feel better.
And, says everything will be alright
With the smile.

She damaged them all
They were nothing, but
mere pack of cards.
Crashed in the game of
poker hearts.  Once had
a heart not it's
long gone. Destroyed in
a game similar
to hers.  She had learned
from the finest of
her destructive kind.
She fought and lost it
all.  Now she´s gone
mad, with her strangling
sweet red and white rose
aroma, merciless
beauty with clothing
made of dignity silk.
Sins she´s paid fo like
all the others will pay
for theirs. With their hearts in
her claws, in her jars as
they once done with hers
because she is the queen
of all their aching, defeated hearts.

isolation and aroma
our tent was crowded and friendly
fires in the early morning
that never seemed to give out
phone died a week ago
and for once i am living
i jumped a cliff and got lost in the forest below it
i was bruised and cold but the music was loud
and their dancing brought me home
drunk singing and emphatic fiddling
i saw what the spirit meant
mine is still there
i haven't felt in a while

The white spirit in your perianths
excites the puerile
I lost in my duties of surviving a life
that culture desires.

I crave to exist in your petals
as a dew that warms your root
for a spell.

You're the one I relish to shelter myself
as you bloom with the fragrance of luscious chroma.
@Shadeofalonelygirl

The slow tea flowed with a knowing tease, letting the flavour seep bone deep as I watched with a growing marrow-level ease, feeling the aroma sink gently down lower than ever before, leaving a lasting trace of exotic leaf, as her voice broke through the spell with her ancient enquiry: "milk and two sugars was it, dear?"