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To those
who abandon the very souls
they once vowed
to die for

hear this...

Even a flower,
plucked and dead
in your careless hand,
will gift you
its fragrance.

It does not curse.
It does not withhold.
It bleeds beauty
for the one
who tore it
from its roots.

So too
do the truest hearts,
they bloom
for their betrayers,
and love
even as they wither.
Gifts of the broken
Churned by cream
Sweet
Oh, but it is
A rose
Dipped in butter
Translucent yellow
Melting into fleshy
Pink
Punctuated thinly
On the edges
Where dirt might get
Into a fingernail
Showing a line
Where color meets
Love of a rose
Singing the sweet and salt
Of butter on
My olfactory
Tongue to the
Earthy fragrance
Only a rosey delight
Gives
To my sight
You are one
Of a kind
My butter Rose
Julia Childs would be delighted.
Nishu Mathur Apr 3
I go back in time
as I get a whiff of some familiar scent.

Like the aroma of spices from my mother’s pulao —- the blend of bay leaves, cinnamon, black cardamom and cloves
that left eyes sparkling in anticipation of a royal meal.

Or the scent of fruits
that made their way into my lunch at school - bananas, apples, grapes, oranges
along with an embroidered napkin
that held onto the smell of the season, the love of parents and the comfort of home.

The tanginess of lemons in my father’s cologne —- a burst of summer every time I opened his closet.

The fragrance of roses from incense sticks that my grandmother would light as she prayed —
the mysticism of life in her folded hands.
The smoke would rise from the sticks, curling, to reach heaven along with her prayers -
and I would look upward wondering if God could hear her songs and smell the roses.

The heady scent of rain and earth as we played in puddles
walking and slipping
splashing and laughing
lost in the moment
hearts as light as those drops of rain.

A whiff of these and I travel back in time
I miss the innocence
and melange of those
happy scents and aromas.

It seems like a different world.
And though far away —
It seems like yesterday.
yıldız Mar 21
Cherry blossoms, soft and bright,
Dance in spring, a fleeting sight.
Some teach us, like whispers in the breeze,
Lessons in petals, carried with ease.

Others bloom, blessings in the sun,
Filling hearts, dispelling the fun.
As they arrive, they too must part,
Leaving fragrance, a mark on the heart.

Cherish each moment, both lesson and grace,
For life’s like blossoms, a beautiful chase.
In seasons' cycle, we learn to let go,
Embracing the beauty in ebb and flow.
Nature Feb 17
Perfumes smell elegant,
It spreads its fragrance wherever it is ,
Hi dear...💕 I wish you to be a perfume ,
Perfume of happiness
Wherever you are, spread happiness.....💓
Spreading happiness is a talent that spreads love , it can't be studied but  can only expressed from  bottom of our hearts.
JAMIL HUSSAIN Feb 14
O' heart, you've made my soul both restless and weak,
Yet I cherish this sweet ache and her generosity, unique.

For me, this world of existence is now pure bliss,
Her gentle, beautiful words—these are what I miss.

Those enchanting eyes have seized my very soul,
Her stunning gaze has left me beyond control.

O' heart, may her love’s fragrance endure forevermore,
Guide me onward through this wondrous, yearning tour.

Perhaps these are but fleeting dreams of my affection,
Yet they taste like nectar, divine in its perfection.

O' heart, may her sweetness of love within me stay,
This unique suffering shall never fade away.

Like a hidden malady, endless and unkind,
May this linger, until my soul ascends, refined.

Her final moments have set my heart’s fire ablaze,
Afflictions endure, for this is the torment I crave.
In the Wake of Her Love 14/02/2025 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
JAMIL HUSSAIN Feb 12
In the realm where whispers doth dance and time standeth still,  
Three voices rise, with purpose sharp and will.  
Perfume, Scent, and Fragrance, in a sacred throng,  
Declare their truths, each claiming right and song.

Perfume spake, with elegance refined,  

“I am the soul of artistry, confined  
To bottle's clasp, a crafted dream,  
A potion made to linger, to gleam.  
I bear the weight of ancient lore,  
A muse of kings, of lovers, and more.  
I am not mere essence, drifting free—  
I am the art of memory."

Scent, a fleeting shadow, whispered low,  

"Thou boastest of power, of permanence, I know,  
But I am life—breathe in, and then I fade,  
In wind, in rain, in every glade.  
Not bound to glass nor vials that bind,  
I slip through cracks, a breath unlined.  
I linger soft on fleeting air,  
A reminder of the earth, everywhere."

Fragrance, in silence, sought to intervene,  

“Is it not I who weave both worlds unseen?  
I am the union of the pure and the real,  
The fleeting touch, the lasting feel.  
I grace thy skin, I fill the room—  
A subtle dance, an endless bloom.  
Without me, perfume would not endure,  
Without me, scent would not be pure."

The argument raged, in circles vast,  
Each voice demanding, steadfast, fast.  
But in the end, a truth was found:  
Together, they’re woven, the essence profound.  
For Perfume and Scent, though both distinct,  
Find harmony in Fragrance—linked.  
Each alone, a part of a greater whole,  
Together, they speak to the heart and soul.
The Essence Trialogue 12/02/2025 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
showyoulove Dec 2024
Let love like sweet perfume
Permeate this sacred room
No longer is Jesus in the tomb
The stone was rolled away
To reveal a brilliant light
All around stood amazed
At this miraculous sight
The sweet perfume of lilies
Was caught up on the breeze
And lifted up to Heaven on high
Like the prayers down on our knees
He is risen, he lives once more
Oh, come let us worship and adore
Like sweet perfume, we are drawn
To follow and to seek the source
We search for an invisible force
May our lives turn out to be
Like sweet perfume unto thee
Attractive to others, a blessing too
But, in all things, may it point to you
Let your love, like sweet perfume,
Surround me and always enfold
As I strive to listen and do what I'm told
A love worth more than all the gold
Let your love warm my heart and soul
Kindle the flame of love in these coals
Let me burn for you with holy desire
Let it reach ever farther and higher
To you, our prayers are oh so sweet
Without your love we are incomplete
Fill our lungs with the sweet peace of God
That we may walk where even angels haven't trod
Written Easter 2019
MetaVerse Aug 2024
Antique
paper
& ink
& glue,
a fragrance
I drink
in through
my nose,
fragrant
like a dead rose.
I fan my face,
& fall into
an antique book
aroma coma.
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