The Berry Sent of Candlelight.
Darkness overcomes me as the night slowly settles in,
What’s left of the light seems to hurt my eye’s, I’ve over worked my body again, I need
to….Relax.
I slowly strike the match on the surface of it’s keep, I hate the smell.. It won’t last,
The flame gently sways on the tip as I light the wick,
My candle of choice is the sweet colour of pink, With the irresistible sent of mixed berry’s.
I sit there in the dark with only the warm and tender glow of the candlelight,
As the luxurious sent of wild, freshly picked berry’s swirls around my mind,
And relaxes my soul, I close my eye’s and begin to think… To think…To think of…
I’m all alone in my mind, there are bushes upon bushes of fresh juicy berry’s,
Blackberry’s, raspberry’s, strawberry’s, blueberry’s and many more,
As I work my way down the endless fields of berry bushes,
I pick only the sweetest of the pick and place them within a basket made of fine straw.
Occasionally placing one in my mouth while making sure not to be greedy,
The warm wind gently blows across my face and I know it’s time to go,
I finish up and make off for home.
The smell of freshly boiled pasta fills my nose as a walk though the door,
I place the berry’s on the table and go up stairs …. There will be a surprise when I come
down,
I bath, dry and change my clothes, As I make my way down the stairs a gentle voice calls
my
name,
I gaze at the table in amazement, Only she could make something so ordinary,
Into a masterpiece.
Vegetable soup and crusty bread to start, For the main course.. Pasta bake and bolognaise,
Then to finish… the crème de la crème…
Sweet freshly picked, wild berry crumble toped with lemon sorbet ice cream that melts in the
mouth.
The taste lingers in my mouth hanging on to every taste bud.
I open my eye’s, It’s late, I softly blow out the candle while still taking in the sent,
I walk up stairs, undress and drift off to sleep… To dream… To dream of…
Copyright © Ivan Beresford | Year Posted 2009
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