remember bowler hat
the brolly'd aristocrat
the starch'd white collar-ruff
the city toff 'n buff

who crunched beneath his foot
the primitives of his world
in bodies black as soot
his hoisted flag unfurled

who sailed the world on junket
to drain the world of nugget
to boost his fiscal budget
to finance a Royal Buffet

now white 'n grey his beard tumbles
o'er crooked staff
skin dried parchment flakes 'n crumbles,
steps from epitaph:

"here lies a once proud empire
that ruled with pomp and quake
but as all things expire
will ne'er 'gain awake."

"hear the tale of hubris [here the tail of hubris]
the end of crooked path
buried 'neath the bootlace
of cruelty's aftermath."

hear the scorn, contempt
behind the paper walls,
thought himself exempt,
now 'mongst ruins falls.

smell a rose or freesia,
an odoriferous bloom,
a crocus from Venetia,
delight in its perfume,

succulent natural oils
that in the sunlight glint
'midst aromatic soils,
oregano, rosemary, mint.

for smell is nonpareil
a truly heavenly gift
there yourself to avail
that darkest clouds may lift

so next in wood or dell
when chance you 'pon sweet trail
wild garlic 'n bluebell
stay moments, hear their tale

let speak through their bouquet
to tell of things sublime,
the scent of fresh baled hay
herb robert, basil 'n thyme.