Vanilla Times
Vanilla times revisited me.
It was delicate when it met my nose.
My mouth moistened as it tingled the candied fragrance.
Overcome by its embrace
Stifled by its warmth.
I knew this aroma intimately and I welcomed it with merriment.
It was my relief
My alleviation from this world.
It was vacation in the spring time.
My confusions absolved when I whiffed the scent.
This fragrance filled my dear Grandmother’s home.
Her cookies
Her perfume
Her candles
She was Vanilla
Down to her creamy skin and sweet smile.
Her Vanilla voice soft and serene.
She took me far away when she spoke.
To a time of her memoirs
A time that seemed so far away
I drifted to her voice as it filled my ears.
This place was euphoric to me.
I recall her memories like they were mine.
I remember those vanilla times.
Every time I pass a bakery.
When the café rolls a new batch of crêpes.
I am returned to these days.
My mind echoes her recollections of yesteryear
She told these stories while baking her treats.
Baklava’s syrup and honey
Greek Easter bread with vanilla and eggs.
Surviving today is hectic
Grandmas at rest
It’s hard to release.
When that sweet bouquet rejoins me
I go back to those Vanilla Times.
Copyright © Nicholas Henderson | Year Posted 2015
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