Scent of Lilacs, Clover and Rain
Think of the scent of Cinnamon
Close your eyes and be transported
Back in time…
Your Mom with a trace
Of flour on her face
Sprinkles of tiny wrinkles that resemble
Those… now on mine
Think of the scent of fresh brewed coffee
Think of the chipped cup
In your mom’s chapped hands…
The sizzle of bacon
That has gently taken
You back to the those long lost lands
Allow no word to be spoken
Lest the spell be broken
This transport cross
The fabric of time
Just relax and enjoy it
Allow the mind to employ it
That mysterious mechanism…
That time refracting prism…
That time travel machine
…That resides in your mind…
Copyright © David O'Haolin Whalen | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment