Best Fragrance Poems
"From deep within my heart
I always catch the scent
of my Beloved. How can I
help but follow that fragrance?" By Rumi
Drowned in delicate perfume of the gorgeous bouquet,
Glistening moon floating in sea of stars, you I see,
Smell your scent in ambrosial Chrysanthemum
How can I not be astounded with your beauty!
Found you dancing joyfully in a sublime garden,
I knew you were my Princess, like a butterfly
You left the oasis, but the alluring scent stayed,
I became a traveller in the world wandering by.
Walked tirelessly hundreds and thousands miles for you,
Crossing vast dales and tall soaring mountains far,
Your fragrance brought me back to harmony of life ,
How did I not know where my beloved were!
The Rose
If I live my life quietly as the rose among the roses in the garden ~
Gently spreading my joy in fragrant perfume,
Will I not find serenity reaching up
For sunlight giving the flower warmth to bloom
Returning life to life?
If I live my life softly as the color of the rose among the roses ~
Reflecting the sunrise and sunset,
No matter that my companion rose has
Color like my own or the same perfume –
Each of us shines with glory on a separate stem.
If I live my life with dignity as the rose among the roses, asking only rain ~
And sunglow to grow above the thorns,
Will I not find completeness in the simplicity
Of touching yet another heart
With my vitality, my color and my joy?
If I live my life peacefully as the rose among the roses, not always visible ~
But knowing the touch of the wind
Will I not find satisfaction building in my stem
A bud, like me, not identical,
Returning to my creator the vision for humanity.
My soul
is in purgatory,
settling in fading tunes
of suppressed silence,
swerving perpetually
amongst
smoky quartz silhouettes;
swiveling through
the
dimmed dungeon
to unraveling shadows
of yesterday’s destruction,
moving in s l o w motion~
rejoicing invisible
rainbow glows
in limitless devotion,
fugitively
resenting the shifting
season of faith~
I question the
treacherous torrents,
through
unorchestrated symphonies…
where do the tides of jealousy
crash and hide to grieve,
over untouched waves,
when it has washed
away compelling
wishes
lost in perfect storms?
For, sometimes,
when trembling
skies bleed black pearls,
upon these aching lungs,
I think of every
nameless ghost
that emanates
familiar fragrances:
convincing
my naive mind,
there’s no evil
even in darkness.
Although I’ve
seen tints of
turning leaves conversing
with tantalizing tears,
whilst this volcanic
heart is ransacked
and ruined,
d a n c i n g away from fears,
forging meaningless scribes,
in fragmented fortunes,
left as debris along the
forgotten fields of
rambling roses drenched
in remorseful rain.
And I stand in the
eye of cataclysmic cyclones~
exhaling the exhaustion,
as the wolf moon calls me,
above million
mourning mountains
in musical misery.
Yet, when cosmic curtains
sequinned with
scarlet sapphires
of midnight skies
drizzle drops
of hibiscus heaven onto the
pages of my poetic haven,
I sketch stars in the shape
of magical w i n g s..
across cursed horizons,
to soothe my
troubled thoughts:
as it’s all in my head,
the
demonic devils dressed
in dragonfly
dust to deceive me,
unaware of how
I’ve been
blindfolded by
the brutal lies
I’ve told myself
in alienated expressions,
that the normal
can never neutralize.
She dwells in deep canyons cold and dark
To ponder a mystery that haunts her soul
Which leaves confusion and doubts in heart
The loss of confidence now takes its toll
To ponder a mystery that haunts her soul
Which renders sleepless hours through the night
The loss of confidence now takes its toll
A flower slowly dying withers in sunlight
It renders sleepless hours through the night
The days are lengthened, and she wastes away
A flower slowly dying withers in sunlight
Her sweet fragrance lost, forever and a day
The days are lengthened, and she wastes away
What could be this wrong which she has caused?
Her sweet fragrance lost, forever and a day
To fully grasp this puzzle she requires pause
What could be this wrong which she has caused?
What pain has she laid upon your heart?
To fully grasp this puzzle she requires pause
She dwells in deep canyons cold and dark
~*~
By: Audrey Carey-Haick
Note: For Paula Swanson's "Pantoum" Contest
.
Grandma's vase waiting
on Mother's lace table cloth
for lilacs to bloom
_____________________
Inspired by Carol Brown's
Haiku Waiting for Spring contest
Bright and intense hues
Breaching through Earths fertile womb
Strewn upon the tombs
By Robb A. Kopp
Reflection - The Fragrance of Grace
Mail order catalogs seem to have the ability to procreate in my mailbox. Just when I think I have rendered them infertile they give birth to multiple sets of quintuplets right under my nose as if by magic fertilization! And, of course, I have to examine these newborn opportunities to raid my bank account just to make sure I haven’t missed some article of clothing or thing I can’t possibly live without for the survival of sanity and my eternal happiness. They are like new spring leaves!
spring sprouts in new leaves
boughs sport jackets of light green ~
chartreuse convention
A new arrival from a New England country store pictured a garden of stately purple iris that immediately grabbed my hand and took me on a ride back into my grandmother’s iris garden with delicate, yet eloquent, perfume wafting from silky petaled garden royalty.
Each page was an adventurous journey through my childhood reminiscing about miracle wrinkle erasing creams, magic bunion healers and kitchen gadgets long declared useless by technology. But, one page made me stop, drop and drool - perfumes. No nascent scents but old friends looking at me from glossy pages bringing to mind the women who gave my life definition – the Royal Secret of my grandmother; Bellodgia and Gardenia of my favorite aunts; Tigress of my tigress mother and Blue Grass, a Kentucky meadow perfume of my teens.
These remarkable women straddled fleeing decades, crushing depressions, cataclysmic world wars often suffering the unthinkable loss of infants, children, husbands, siblings and miscarriages. Yet, through their signature scents, they taught me about thanksgiving in tragedy, faith in grieving and the irrepressible iron will to live in the fragrance of grace.
harlequin bouquets
fragrance of flower’s essence ~
sunlight washed gardens
4-21-21
Contest: Moments of Reflections
Sponsor: Malabika Ray Choudhury
How thrilled was I, the strings in my heart trembled,
when a note floated to me
in the wind, and drenched me with a fragrance
I remembered from many years ago…
many years ago, when a soft soothing melody
along with the aroma of love drowned me
in ecstasy!
This is the note I was waiting for...
from the memories of my past, my tender dreams
which murmured like a river flowing
to meet its end in the ocean.
flowers which bloomed,
but the quivering petals slowly drooped,
never shone in its full splendour!
A Note,
carried by the playful Spring wind…brought me a
message, whispered in my ears ...
Love waits.
October 26, 2022
"A Note In The Wind" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Charles Messina
How reverently he removes the seal,
anticipating the fragrance,
the first small taste,
remembering the warmth and
laughter of the party,
parties, the bar, the taverns,
the men, the women,
long-tailed cigarette smoke curling.
His tongue unconsciously caresses
the corner of his mouth
as his left hand cups
the shoulder of the bottle
gently and firmly as a lover.
Drawing a penknife from his pocket
he pulls open the blade to cut
the black band binding the cap,
his lips slightly pursed,
engrossed in the process.
Deftly flicking the cap,
he lays it aside and pauses;
it takes only a moment
for the subtle vapors
to lift to his nostrils.
Not quite a smile,
something even more
expressive of pleasure,
a submission,
a peace that fills him
as if coming home
from an arduous journey.
He pours.
There are wonderful properties in various types of flowers that enhance our lives.
A husband ponders over a bouquet of colored flowers to present to his wife.
Flowers have an aroma that infuses the air all around.
Their fragrance is carried on the wings of the wind without a sound.
Their colors are so vibrant and beautiful and a wonderful dose of eye candy.
Flowers are found in the mountains, valleys, and sometimes even where it's sandy.
A picture may be worth a thousand words but a bouquet of flowers says it all.
The benefits of flowers in the house enhance the atmosphere whether the bouquet is either great or small.
As red musk fragrance from the steamed en suite
escapes to her boudoir
from oil essential jar
a silken nightie trimmed with lace complete
she slips light-fingered on to flawless skin
then she adjusts the light
soft glowing for the night
with graceful movements lifts the sheets, turns in.
Then on the pillow she lays down her head
relieved to leave behind
the weight of weary mind
the balm of slumber she will seek instead.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Enclosed Rhyme contest
Hosted by Dear Heart
Placed 6th
27th September 2018
The dawn is fragrant with a ruby rose,
the sunset smells as somnolent as blue
night violets... In fragrance they compose
its head and tail but heart belongs to you.
An intricate experimental prose
(not actually popular), a new
ambiguous poetry... These two compose
my blood and flesh but soul belongs to you.
An everlasting transience I chose,
a wanderlust, a hatred for a queue
and noisy neighbors... All of them compose
my worthless life but death belongs to you.
This weird sonnet came along due
to no longer I belong to you.
The day before a storm
belies calm and quiet,
wispy clouds bounce in skies
bright with boundless blueness,
Southern summer surprise.
The day before a storm
promotes a sweet fragrance
blown by light, gentle gusts,
softly scampering through
with breathy upward thrusts.
The day before a storm
imprints the Southern sky,
a taunting, teasing wind
caresses blank canvas
and moves colors to blend.
The day before a storm
rattles ironclad glaives
of battling stratus clouds,
a lull looms in the air
warning of what it shrouds.
O'er feathery clouds adrift a kite
'Neath sway lavender gardens that invite
Embracing warm rays of spring sunlight
Pining for sweet afternoon delight
With glass of wine lovers reunite
O'er dreamlike blissfully scented sight
The moon tiptoes up the sky so sprite
Till she gains apex above in height
Whilst I close my eyes to say goodnight
I tender my love dulcet good night
Spring lavender garden dreams take flight
AP: 2nd place 2025, 2nd place 2022
Submitted on March 8, 2019 for contest WK2 MARCH 2019 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
He is day's melody
adorned by sun-blessed winds
rich and dark the manly warmth,
he always holds me ,caressing my hours
with spritz of a thousand songs...
Commanding flowers to unfold
the scent of his presence
mingles with that unmistakable
woody musky aroma,
lingering in whiffs of air,
heady and ambrosial
a fragrance natural, not bottled nor diluted
that my ardor burns.
And I become his starlight , his woman
he leans on me for water's sustenance,
with pulses of reverence and wonder.
Somehow , at all times I know.
in a forest of naked trees,
his potent balm protects our nakedness...
It was ours, this spirit...not to be shared