"fragrantly" poems
The moment has passed, but it still is not too late
To forsake the greatly separated paths we've chose to take
Cutting off to the clearing forged, by feet, of matted grasses
Trailing round the pines and oak, whom fragrantly halt attachment
But their sight, so tall, and woody scent so strong and pleasant
Distracts us from the task we try to hold here at the present
But we soldier on, and wavering dodge all obstacles we see
So that "me" "myself" and "I", through "Us" can become "We"
Parallel paths given life from what we've made
Forming lines into a grid, all paths for everyone to take
Whats yours is mine and hers and his and continued making, still
Forever all of ours, our experience, free will.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 11:49 AM UTC
Tiny flowers, songs in violet shades played, ringing round oaks
spilling on the mossy lawn
Songs of birds swirled sweet the air
and flew the cold of winter's caging, gone the snowdrops melting
Sunny - yellow willow, ever graceful
flowing breezy, leafy vines
sing soft of life, sweet the air
of your budding time
Tomorrow's path of hyacinth will bloom
to light the days, sweeping fragrantly all the hours of moon
tulips of apeldoorn bursting red, in a field of Spring, how sweet the air
soon far off in scented hills of green
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 12:39 PM UTC
The morning sang to meadow-ed fields
mountains hummed the clouds far off,
skies went wildly blue
Strolling fragrantly in the cutting rows
lavender florets fell between dreaming toes
Scented mounds infused the path
provence, grosso, royal velvet, I chose
Woody stemmed grey, green, blue
bent breaking fragrance in the heated dew
Cabbage moths danced to singing bees
daydreaming
- I flew in lavandula breeze
Jul 19, 2012
Jul 19, 2012 at 10:02 PM UTC
Chrismal Skies
Delicate beauty christening our innate senses
Sweetest effusions dancing with mother’s perfume
Across this dew kissed sacred morning
Thunderous echoes announce your chrismal skies
Where winter’s kiss beckons to quietly slumber
Your beatific bouquets fragrantly arrive…
© Romantic Poetry Poetess
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 3:43 PM UTC
Can you hear that?
Swoosh, swoosh, thump, thump.
The blood rushes to your head
Until your ears can't stand the pounding.
Can you feel that?
The beating in your chest is accelerating.
A heart attack could be on the horizon.
Is it the fear of getting caught
Or the chase that excites me?
Can you taste that?
It's on the tip of your tongue
And seeping through every pour
And out of every outlet in your body.
Can you smell that?
The world around you melts fragrantly
Pick your poison, your sin, your vice
Whether it be ***** *** addictive substances
Or some hearty combination of the three
And breathe it all in
Did you see that?
Every rule they tied me down with has been shattered.
You won't sleep tonight if you run with us.
But I guarantee you'll regret it in the morning.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
Oleander
Melanie S. Moorman, 2/3/15
Such beautiful pain
Such largeness and gain
Hardened by walls
Built up time & time again
White scented petals
Fill the air - so smooth
Fragrantly wafting -
Singing to the Moon
Lovelorn and tired
She's dressed but uninspired
Her mood changes
But her song is the same
Will you come out tonight?
He says with a longing
Will you put on that dress?
A place your body belongs in
She smiles seductively
He knows what that means
His desire shall be curbed
By a meandering dream
Playfully she calls
But he hears - not too well
Lost in his fears
Where his love for her dwells.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:46 AM UTC
That time in summer's red, the hilly sands I climbed
willow grass woven white with yarrow, fragrantly entwined
my eyes softened in sea drift's tide, of puddled shallows
ocean sang in rising waves, wild sea kelp tangled
sun slept scarce hours, it's shining seaward beams
that only leave as the final silhouette
vanishes into night's dream
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 10:30 AM UTC
that place with comforting as theme overriding,
essentials of dream, complex, shelter, cocoon,
which/whether, almost irrelevant,
if and or,
don't matter when you are at home,
light, fierce sun rays eyes filled,
moonlight stars invading one's composure
now!
time
to alight, feet on the grounding,
rain,
pelting, not an inhibitor to the poem
in me, its resonating drumming me up,
to a beating, a lyric, a thyme of rhyme,
fragrantly repeating in my head, home,
home is where the flagrant poems are
born, delivered by no midwife, from
the ***** of my entirety, all five sensoria,
commanded by multiple generals on
different battlefields, coordinating a
battle plan, exhale, attack, coordinate,
brain, eye, smell, movement, urgency,
taste, words gushed, light emitted from
the fingertips, you cannot write as fast
as required, you, self, afired, and afeared,
losses will be greater than expected, but
no matter when we carry the tide behind
us, sweeping the obstacle of ego, pinging
pain, the hesitation that collapses courage,
oh god, oh me, be brave, lead me into the
breach,
the hole, the aperture that will allow a totality
of me to exit, to escape, to compose, p r o p o s e,
the confines of my uncontrollable uncontained
unconscious natured being and fervent annouce,
on this day,
*this poem shall be
written in its fulfilling, exiting fulsomeness,
&
entirety,
and let me rise, raise up, lift and shout,
one more last time, like the first time, praise and glory,
hallelujah to the parts of me that gifted me this
poem in-the unity-of-unison, uncensored, un~
inhibited and finalized momentarily perpetual,
with an amen amendment offered up too all and to
me…
amen, amen, amen
and let us rise up to morrow and once more,
write up to ride to birth the essentials of my next
homebound
be-ing
Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 5:15 PM UTC
On what day did the Seeker, that foul-shaped gangly
Figure, weep and belly-crawl toward me
Forward winding? In craven eaves, in parsley fields,
I wrinkled sleeves, running, running,
A bare-foot straw sock stuck fast and wide
While crows were nodding, nodding, nodding.
The mansion breaks the parsley skirting; my mouth
Is panting, low, unsightly. A butter cloud of moths
Were dancing, and caught my cheeks with tender tags
Of sickly salt-pan glister. With baked stone walls I
Pushed the tail-bone, and time was wailing fast before
Me, it scratched my back into a cup of clawing,
Chasing fingers.
He seeks me still in wooden boxing, under sweating
Hands are shaking; time atop my crush of raven
Swings a hefty, dullsome, tune. Knees were pulled far
Up and rounded, domed and white, and jade, and black,
Stuck and stinking fragrantly, the skiddish slums of slime
Betrayed me- sleeves were ***** hot, and green.
With backbone slinking down the body, the clock
Grows loud with muffled strumming. In front, the crack,
The door before me, small enough to wholesome hold
Me, blanks the mansion's putty light. Arms that longly *****
The run trail, scoop a crackle from the door frame;
Ones that pester, hound and perish
With longing, longing, longing.
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 6:45 AM UTC
I live on a small (25 sq. mile) island, accessible only by ferry.
<>
“For we are dear to the immortal gods,
Living here, in the sea that rolls forever,
Distant from other lands and other men”
—Homer, the Odyssey (translated by Robert Fitzgerald)
<>
*sea air inoculates the slowing breath-taking ferried voyager,
our landed cares felled, fall into a wake, trailing, sunk & submerged,
a ferry’s ramp contact-clangs, belling a “Here, Here!” alters our mien,
the softening airy enveloping, fragrantly, a greeting of immortal gods*
*no matter that we can vision-easy the neighboring isles, with
their trafficked-light busyness, the to and fro of mainland life,
bustle necessity of hustle, our riveted river moat cancels out
imposing surround sounds, our untucked flavor, floating free*
*wafting perfume of quiet inlet, creek and harbour, touch us safely,
alternating currents of gentle breeze, stiffer sailing winds, gusts,
bending us, these reminders, we humans too, creatures of elementals,
water, sun, forest, sand, animals, singular upon co-hosted menagerie*
*the brackish water, where fresh + marine waters mix, live + die,
reflecting our pooling diversity, so few of us born here, yet so many,
adopt and adapt the isle’s peculiarities, endearing all without any
distinction, we blessed together by Immortal Gods to shelter together,
by, from, the seas that roll us into one peaceful island, nearly, dearly,
and now departed*
<>
Shell Beach,
Shelter Island
August 2021
Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 1:28 PM UTC
I have been told that within every tear drop cried
lives a glistening amount of hope
That butterflies once again shall live free
floating above golden fields sharing their beauty
Enemies will drop their weapons
in search of peace and understanding
Sadness will eventually subside and be
replaced by affection and happiness
Friendship will actually mean something
and become more than just a word
Others will take the time to look out for
and help their fellow woman or man
Forgiveness will bloom fragrantly, vibrantly
in every garden of every heart
Love shall rule the day
and hate will be long forgotten
Yes, I have been told that this hope
lives in every teardrop that crosses our cheeks
and still I sit hear constantly crying
streams of hopeless teardrops
For I have come to the realization
that this tissue I clutch so tightly in my hand
as if holding out with every ounce of saturated hope
is drenched in nothing more than empty wishes
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 2:58 PM UTC
What is love? You ask me as
the first breath of frost whispers
goodbye on your lips.
I feel quite strongly that life’s
immensity hangs in the summer
breeze; particles of dust that glimmer
in the sun behind your heels.
They say that our atoms are spread thin
like a crisp sheet that catches the wind
and settles fragrantly
/
deep inside my mind
But the universe is in your eyes
as dense as a black hole
and as light as the sky;
fields of wheat stirring in the
evening sun
as I taste life everywhere
soaking into my bones.
Your innocent breath,
unfolding itself
gently
.
wholly
melting light
into my cold skin.
time is
folding spherically
O
folding infinitely/boundless
or
floating selflessly
through empty space
together
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
It was that time of year
As we came out to play
And feel the rays of the sun
On that soft warm spring day
The soft scent of flowers
Fragrantly filling the air
Reminding us all
To live without care
A new feeling arises
A sense of rebirth
Oh what joyous abounding
Life has returned to the earth
As we run through the fields
With not a care in the world
Thinking about flights of fancy
Letting our wings go unfurled
It’s the dawn of a new day
A season of hope
Soft new beginnings
Cut the bindings of rope
And I look at you
And you look at me
Knowing that we are
Completely meant to be
Let our love for each other
Grow together as one
As we explore life together
Cupid’s work here is done
A beginning of life
Is what spring is about
A fantastic life with you
Of that, there is no doubt
Jul 24, 2010
Jul 24, 2010 at 7:59 PM UTC
That time in summer's red, the hilly sands I climbed
willow grass woven white with yarrow, fragrantly entwined
my eyes softened in sea drift's tide, of puddled shallows
ocean sang in rising waves, wild sea kelp tangled
sun slept scarce hours, it's shining seaward beams
that only leave as the final silhouette
vanishes into night's dream
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC
bardo smoke...
love like life, limb
and charred wood.
fragrantly black in
the nausea of a fire's
sleep.
as life and death say:
repeat after me.
so repeated, now as
never before.
a love that's found itself...
for the last time on earth.
may i be blessed to hold
her in all her suffering.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
It came soft the dusk across your face,
glowing rosy pink
A setting sea that drank the day
with silence wildly
Your eyes became the outer lands
and sang the night of summer
Soft as sand a bed of grassy meadow
our hearts to bloom fragrantly
open as a flower
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 5:08 PM UTC
Petals of velvet gleam in the sun
the magical moment of dawn
a dewy web has already been spun
the carousel of life newly born
The continual share of sweet smelling air
perfumed layers that stun
bring to us an uplifting prayer
a procession for us has begun
Flowers outside stretching alive
opening their cusps full of gold
pollinating bees buzzing with pride
and a breeze no longer cold
Scurrying rabbits dodging the gun
as farmers tend to their crops
exuberant lambs learn how to run
the circle of life never stops
A melodic word is that of a bird
a private concert for one
the best alarm clock I ever heard
freely offered to everyone
A gentle wind rustles echoes of green
and fragrantly flavours my senses
a beautiful peaceful passionate scene
England releases my internal defences
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
Contently curled fingers and toes
On pale gooseflesh limbs gone still,
Across each other and a downy blanket
It was held, but it came willingly.
Outside, frozen wintry branches peacefully slumbering, fallen in a drift of snow.
Patiently awaiting spring to rot to soil on soil.
Inside, dust motes wandering lazily in swathes of sunlight by the millions and billions
A scale model of celestial bodies orbiting and being orbited endlessly.
Pinpricks representing the possibilities seemingly spread before us
In reality, mocking the obvious and inevitable single result.
A soft sigh, a low murmur returned
I want to remember this because I know it will end
And the snow melted and the lilacs fragrantly erupted
And limbs and fingers and toes kept too warm alone
And all was movement and noise and
And the air carried the scent of time like a warning
And pollen held a vice grip on nostrils and lungs and eyes and brains and
By one it was released, from the other it escaped
But don’t you remember?
And it did end.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC
The light has come again
I'm a flower, not a bud
I'm fragrantly proud
Hope as been restored
Got alot of work ahead
To the Queen's Study!
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 2:25 AM UTC
Breathless sky
how silent clouds collide
leaving me to charcoal gray
teardrops will rain
today
Tomorrow how the Spring
sweetly sings of cloudless skies
blossoms will rain, fragrantly
the orange tree
and still
no matter the weather
gorgeous birds unwavering
will sing in secret codes
seemingly knowing
more than I
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
My beloved your love is the tonic for me to stand
This is what is music of harmony and love band
Let us travel from heart to heart and hand to hand
Let us be up above the clouds and not on the land
You are a butterfly with all the colors of life to bloom
I want to catch you to make my life fragrantly perfume
Let with new zeal,zest our broken relations to resume
Without you I can not survive I understand,presume
Life is but an endless test of veracity and integrity
Let us be straightforward to show in love solidarity
Let not our spirits be consumed by just fear and pity
Let my sweetheart make our own world to be just free
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 12:20 AM UTC
Love bequeathed a friend in mauve.
Of falling trees and broken temples.
For promises.
Azure bright blue.
Stunning seas.
Not the Isle of Wight.
I'm so sad to say.
Ferries, cause swell.
The water's not clear, there's a God awful smell.
Not always however, the beaches are pretty, so nice for a stroll.
The affluent fellows strut into Cowes, they're sailing their yachts off into the calm.
Avoiding the storms, they're not going home.
Wife left in the house.
He says she loves gardening.
Who knows, maybe she's a gnomess, a tidiness freak.
Goes off and leaves her every week,
He tells us she likes it that way...
Well, I never know what to say, perhaps he's just a player.
I have my suspicions.
Hovels hiding behind shutter less houses.
Coveted lovers secure in lies.
His lover lay trembling on the ground.
Her pleasant muses they truly astound.
Music and moments, painted in pink.
Designed to make him sit and think.
If the music be power of cannons and smoke, let nobody choke.
Of seasons and flowers,sweet aromatic breezes of night scented Jasmine.
Fragrantly green, very fresh.
I actually love the Isle of Wight...
(c) Livvi MMCV
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 4:27 PM UTC
Always a comlusive romantic but values rule
Never committed adultery cheated to date
If one is honesly open with those one loves
It's no sin to for making love to open the gate
We all know the words both being yes and no
One day we all are going to stop breathing true
And most of us do things being work exersize
Making love great for the heart soul and mind
Keeping lives to ones self good for one and both
But doing so take time and slowly give your all
There are no takers of love only two giving fine
Low lights soft music open fire and good wine
Phones off hooks doors locked comfort as well
Body heat oil fragrantly cented ample of same
I love natural music on a tin roof sound of rain
Always loved making love to one loving it too
The night still young just begun till the sun
Finding the feelings precious to feel slowly
Twp making love a beautuful gift time begun
( Making Love is not being INLOVE )
terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 7:49 AM UTC
I look at the Peach blossom dancing fragrantly in the sun. I smell it's sweet nectar and cannot wait for it to fade, bringing forth delicious, golden and red fruit. Though I will feel saddened when the blossoms fade, my sorry will not last to long, once the trees are fully ripe with Peaches that I love to eat so much.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 10:50 PM UTC
Her hello was fragrantly sprayed beneath her chin,
Circling the front of her neck.
A collarless shirt covered in a variation of Dior, or bombshell.
A candle lingering the sweet aroma of blue and orange.
A beautiful stranger I could meet over and over again.
Hello.
My hand surrounding the caress of her fingers.
Covered in warmth
Again, Sincerely, hello.
She smiled a bit.
A Scattered flower spread a part of herself
Given freely. Fully awake staring,
Watching her hello say farewell to the bottom of her lip
The stem of such melody, seeing myself where her collar would go.
The nape of her neck,
Wrapping myself in a blossoming bud.
Meeting her halfway.
Hello
Hoping to meet you again ; The lovely fragrance of her hello
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC