Lyn-Purcell Aug 2
Wrapped in a warm
blanket of vanilla
and lavender
stardust
The wonders of wax melts! ^-^
Lyn xxx
Lilac emits her scent,
Orchid’s winks bring elation;
Love speaks through us all!
In a garden,
As beautiful as heaven,
At night Jasmine,
With white silky lips,
Unfolded its perfumed petals,
Blossoms in ethereal beauty,
With a creamy glow.
In the morning the Red Rose in bud,
Drenched in dew,
Unfurled its petals one by one,
On a single stem with its prickly thorn,
Sassy and beautiful.
Each with an ego of,
"I am the best",
Their hatred flared,
In fumes their scent flowed in waves.
The  birds and insects looked on,
Prayed for peace,
Tried to pacify them.
Then one day their enmity changed to love.
Bees and butterflies sang and chanted love songs,
As they sipped their nectar.
Soon The Rose proposed,
My love, let's get married,
For long have we tarried.
So the hummingbird  flew them to them to a famous wedding planner,
To be stringed into garlands,
Jasmine for the bride,
And The Red Rose for the groom.
The couple took their vows,
So did The Rose and Jasmine.
They made a beautiful pair,
And their children were called Jasrose.
Poetic fairy tale
Seanathon Jul 28
There are girls who smell like spring...

And there are girls who smell like books...

And there are girls who paint a trace along the lines of your own family.

Which are most to be avoided.
Something in the air. Which cannot be shaken. But shakes me.
Wided Ben Jul 16
When the feared day came, I roamed the city looking for traces of your scent, the city is big and my lungs are small,  
I inhaled whatever my pores could take in, the Kebab of every street, a whiff of the pomegranates of the South, the dust of the North, but you were not in the air, you were gone.

Cities have no honor, but this one is no traitor,

you flee anyway, and I,
I weep over your streets.
Graff1980 Jul 15
It is a certain sadness,
an empty sorrow
for something I never had
but still miss.
I ache for any scent,
for any nasal experience
cause I have never known
the sweet smell of anything,
but if I consider it a blessing
I have never known the stench.
of anything.
Sharon Talbot Jul 12
I recalled the smell of junipers warming in the sun,
Or maybe mice nesting under the cupboard.
Or bleached linen hung out by Mum,
Reminds me of something about Dad from long ago,
You ask me…to say if it was gin;
There are things I can’t tell you, Son.
Some people think that it’s a sin;
So just use your imagination.

Another time I smelled crushed daisies of
The housemaids, I remember from Kleßheim.
Thunderstorms rolled down from the Alps at night,
Then turned at morning into clarified, buttered sun.
They remind me of someone’s blonde hair,
I just can’t tell you when or where,
So use your imagination.

Scent is the most potent mnemonic,
Triggering mystical cells inside,
Creating a stream of biophotonics,
Rapture returns in histrionics,
Tracking things from skin and hair,
To lips and eyes, to a groan, an intrigued stare.
Things we can never tell another, even if
He or she or they were there
What happened in those brilliant days?
Only imagination can say.

Crystal hanging in the window at nine o’clock,
Rays strike the glass, opening up the past.
Before me spreads a wide, green lawn,
Ladies and lords stroll with their finery on.
I sit and watch, while the procession advances,
Tricornes doffed and stays undone in dances.
Until the satin, silk and brocades lie on the ground,
Gavotte kisses become tender, sensual rounds
And naked, youth flees into woods.
And everything is happening;
Everything is good.
This is about memory, predominantly smell, how much we remember and what is only guessed at. The last part is about memories of a past life triggered by light in a prism.
Golden hues light up the day
Violet tones at night
Roses scent fills up the air
You can find them without sight

Blue for bells not ringing
Yellow signs of spring
But still the air is scented
By the Rose, the floral King.
Esther Ye Jun 20
Funny how after all these years
I can still smell you on my sleeves
The scent lingers
It's like you never left.
I know you're long gone, but i still got the same old jumper on, the one i wore all those nights you held me close.

p.s. today would've been our 1 year anniversary if we were still together.
I can wash off
the dirt stuck on me
on the way home.
I can wash off
the sweat
caused by the fear
and I can make
all the memories
disappear.

But fingerprints can't
be washed away.
And your scent
I'm sure it could leave
but I've been making
it stay.
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