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“The Scent of Jasmin”

As I wait for my love, like so many times before, beside the willow tree near the brook, its water glitters like diamonds in the midday sun. The wind was blowing ever so softly through the trees. The anticipation of her arrival was blissful anguish. Longing to see her once again, to touch her, to hold her filled my very soul. As I hear the rustling of the autumn leaves along the ground, I turn to see my love gracefully walking toward me. Her long flowing hair gave way to the soft unyielding Autumn winds carrying it to one side accentuating her beauty. Once we meet, she slides her hands into mine, melting my heart with her smile. As I pull her close to me, the scent of her perfume was captivating, the scent of Jasmin, and then our lips softly touch. However, reality opens my eyes, and she is no longer standing in front of me. Her vision, a product of my past, my memories of a love taken from me much too soon. Her haunting memory fills my heart with joy and overwhelming grief that I will never again smell the scent of Jasmin.

V.M. Tackett

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