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Sally A Bayan May 10
Scent... a spray  
of sweet, nagging fragrance,
borne by a rush of air,
touching nostrils as it travels,
to stimulate, and scintillate
a parade of memories,
especially, when distance is great
and truly separates...
could be from a bouquet of roses,
or a handful of jasmine...or,
the welcome smell of cinnamon, sage,
other spices...elements of what we call,
the fragrances of good cooking...or,
those of sweat and a fruity cologne,
blending, while working,
from caring....from loving...
it's a brush of summer wind
that captures, even a bit of a sniff
of any, or all of these scents...
these smells dwell in the senses
they reassure...that one person is never away
fears are held at're okay,
it brings calm to one's soul...
the nose...the other senses know,
the heart and the mind know
the source of all
these fragrances...
no perfume could ever equal
the scent(s) of a woman...


Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 30, 2018

(From 2018......edited a bit.)
The lightest hints of honey
A rich muggy scent of dew
Scents of the east
As the sun slowly rises
Brilliantly orange and shockingly sweet
And the lightest hints of honey
Stirs your mahogany cup of brew
And the rich drops of dew
It's that which I breath
Your skin a perfume
My favorite perfume
JP Goss Sep 2018
In the middle of it all, linoleum and cleaners
I find the shelves of candles and pry off their lids
Just to find out what scents they hid.
No noise, no racket, and nothing meaner.

The balsam fir in craters of wax
A chirstmas tree hunt and sugarsnackes
Recollect times to play and relax
Late December days and skies overcast
The carrides back smelled of this.

Of the wild rose, all pink and flush
Our faces betrayed us after stealing a kiss
And stealing away hidden with a wild blush
When asked just where we were.

I’d say the black bamboo
Where the growing pains began
I remembered what I never wanted to know
Smelling her sweat on my hands.

After every cupcake and fall harvest
We felt torn in two
Amidst the parents and summer’s zest
Everything I wanted couldn’t possibly be true,

The strawberries, the honeybees
Clean linen on a quick, tense rainstorm
I fell to my knees,
Afraid that my passions would
Take on another form.

Far too wild and winterborn,
You have your sleights in sympathy
And obtain what may decorate your court
I amuse you with love: an elegy.

But, the heart is no traitor, not to any court
And says I’m no citizen of your lovely heart
I’m a smiling nomad that goes in due time
And, love, we can trade castles
Since you’re no citizen of mine.

Again, the scents linger with no flame to their wick
Closed were their lids to choke out the burn
Cool were the insides, like ash in an urn
A single spark dazzles but goes out too quick
Each smell left unfamiliar may not have you
It’s not you and me, but me and you and you and you.
earthling Sep 2018
the faint smell of rain
and the remnants in my coffee cup
from hours of early morning
wake me from my sleep
and as i lay in the space
between dreaming and consciousness
i breathe in the scent again
in hopes that it would take me back
to a similar time in the past
when i was closer to home.
Sally A Bayan Jul 2018
The sight of rain,
of wet clothes, wet plants,
wet doorsteps, wet hopes and dreams,
and, that known scent of sadness and grief
all these...create soggy, sluggish minds

we just lost two dogs to the virus
the glum of monsoon rains affects the moods
the "yays" from cancelled classes
have all passed...
sun is shining, not too bright, though,
peeps like a tease, but,
enough to dry the ground...

i see vacant lots...almost naked now
motor's droning hum is a lullaby
that lulls the mind
a strong smell stirs the nostrils and
defines a welcome pleasance...
i sniff....and chase away sadness,
with this intriguing scent
.....of freshly cut grass....


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    July 25, 2018
Ako May 2018
I keep slicing reality
With the Knife of Reason,
Yet brushing winds
Carry scents of hope.

Neuron connections of
Misconceptions -
Is that causation
Or empty words?

I keep dicing my days
Climbing the ego
Of a shoreless mind
You keep coming my way
Wearing nothing but bands
Around your thighs -
Limelight moments.
Ticking clocks.
Down my spine.
Written Nov. 10, 2016
Jo Barber Apr 2018
Hear the chimes ringing,
this sleepy Sunday singing.
Monday will bring persimmons,
and Tuesday a touch of snow.
Eyelids grow heavy,
the evening siestas are winning.
The trees shade are giving
and sweet scents are brimming
among these lovely Sunday trimmings.

Oh, what a fine Spring day.
is or was

title from title
bring scented kisses
was her real man
really that
she was so tender


let me
sink in

i can only speak for myself
the way she makers me feel
fly away


she spirals me at times
but my confidence
shall never be

shakes me here
there is no contradictions in love
my confidence could never be shaken
she has shaken me from my core
you will find me within her
she has always been

we have stood on shorelines with blotted sands
through storms
desert lands

from here to there we reach
she comes to me as an lady

we glady wash her feet
forget that p word

Ivan Brooks Sr Jan 2018
My favorite is the one by Jovan
The pervasive scent , nothing tops a musk
Why not Drakkar Noir or Ralph's Polo,Ivan ?
It's the appeal and aroma I love the most !

Musk is my favorite cologne.
That aromatic substance,the smell ,
The way it absorbs like a sponge
The mesmerizing and addictive spell .

The power and confidence when worn ,
the longevity and its staying power
That permeates the soul,deep as a ship's horn
Unique scent that lasts for hours .

The power of its undeniable presence
That lasts from dawn to dusk
Nothing compares to the fragrance
Of the distinct and classic scent of the musk.
The smell of a woman's fragrance is everything.
...I therefore match with Musk,to seek her attention.
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