Fragrant Memories

You know, it’s strange how much our sense of smell Associates itself with past events. The slightest whiff is all we need to dwell A hundred miles away or decades hence. The smell of new-mown hay or baking bread Now brings to mind my happy Hampshire roots And heady scent of hyacinth has led Me to a cottage in a wood where owls hoot. The rich aroma of an open fire With blackened teacakes on a toasting fork, Transporting tired spirits even higher Through fragrant bluebell woods on family walks. So many memories, frozen in time Until that unique scent will make them chime. 2 February 2014