Best Odours Poems
The scent of your soul
a caramalized breeze of fruit odours
reverbrating softly through my memory
Throwing me right back in ninth grade
where we sat side by side
Your right arm reaching slightly for my back
Your name resonates gently with my spirit
as thoughts of you dwell in my mind
Carrying me back to the shade
of purple grape orchids in evergreen woods
Our first kiss perched upon last autumn's twig
still lingers in early morn's bone-china cup
wafting its pungent aroma of dark roast coffee beans
and so the smell of rubber tyres against the wind
Such revoked moments of unknown danger and defiant fun
Other moments of beauty and snow angels
Of freedom and moonlights,sunrise and life
I can still recall the days,months,and years
till our footprints marked seperate paths
Ah,those days,those last hours,How can I forget?
Sweet as frosty vanilla and chocolate chips of an ice-cream parlour
Melting as spongy marshmallows and honey syrup
Fresh as the colour of every new dream which haunts me
llike an alluring glance of almond-shaped eyes
This afternoon,like other afternoons I walk to the library
which knows the musky sweat of your palm upon my own
That fragrance 's gone now,all that is left is the fading perfume
of forgotten petals between old books and dust
No one here except my silence ,and a rotten sliced apple
vacuum packed,lacking its cinnamon and even its spice.
Back home the mildewed strings of a guitar
await my fingertips to play once more
upon the worn out chords of my vacant heart
What will I play,what will I sing,a song which isn't ours?
Fermented wine I poured into a glass
Yearning to taste its purple grape for what it was
before all it was turned out bitter,acidic and sour
I wondered about where you might be,distant or not as far
Listening to my voice on once upon a record player
Or Wishing on a star ?
A repost (written : 10/15/2014
Categories:
odours, absence, love,
Form:
Free verse
The scent of your soul
a caramelized breeze of fruit odours
reverberating softly through my memory
Throwing me right back into ninth grade
where we sat side by side
Your right arm reaching slightly for my back
Your name resonates gently with my spirit
as thoughts of you dwell in my mind
Carrying me back to the shade
of purple grape orchids in evergreen woods
Our first kiss perched upon last autumn's twig
still lingers in early morn's bone-china cup
wafting its pungent aroma of dark roast coffee beans
and so the smell of rubber tyres against the wind
Such revoked moments of unknown danger and defiant fun
Other moments,of beauty and snow angels
Of freedom and moonlights,sunrise and life
I can still recall the days,months,and years
till our footprints marked separate paths
Ah,those days,those last hours,How can I forget?
Sweet as frosty vanilla and chocolate chips of an ice cream parlour
Melting as spongy marshmallows and honey syrup
Fresh as the colour of your soul, which haunts me
like an alluring glance of almond-shaped eyes
This afternoon , like other afternoons I walk to the library
which knows the musky sweat of your palm upon my own
That fragrance 's gone now.All that is left is the fading perfume
of forgotten petals between old books and dust
No one here except my silence,and a rotten sliced apple
vacuum packed ,lacking its cinnamon and even its spice.
Back home,the mildewed strings of a guitar
await my fingertips to play once more
upon the worn out chords of my heart
What will I play,what will I sing ,a song which isn't ours ?
Fermented wine I poured into my glass
Yearning to taste its purple grape for what it was
before all it was turned bitter,acidic and sour
I wondered about where you might be ,distant or not as far
Listening to my voice on once upon a record player
Wishing on a star ?
Not for the contest
But thanks for the inspiration
Contest name-The Scent Of Your Soul
Categories:
odours, absence, feelings,
Form:
Free verse
The scent of your soul
A caramelised breeze of fruit odours
reverberating softly through my memory
Throwing me right back in ninth grade
where we sat side by side
Your right arm reaching slightly for my back.
Thoughts of you dwell in my mind
and your name resonates gently with my spirit
carrying me back to the shade
of purple orchids in evergreen woods.
Our first kiss perched upon last autumn's twig
still lingers in early morn's bone-china cup
wafting its pungent aroma of dark roast coffee-beans
and so the smell of rubber tyres against the wind.
Such revoked moments of unknown danger
Of fearless dreams , and defiant fun.
Other moments of beauty and snow angels
Of freedom and moonlights ,sunrise and life.
I can still recall those weeks ,months ,years
till footprints marked separate paths
and our shared candles became the past.
Ah those lazy siestas, those days...those nights...
Sweet as frosty vanilla and chocolate chips of an ice -cream parlour
Melting as spongy marshmallows and honey syrup
Fresh as the linen of your shirt which haunts me
like an alluring glance of almond - shaped eyes.
This afternoon, like other afternoons, I walk to the library
that knows the musky sweat of your palm upon my own.
That fragrance 's gone now . All that is left is a fading perfume
of forgotten petals, between old books and dusty shelves.
Nobody here, except my silence and a rotten sliced apple ,
Vacuum- packed ,lacking both cinnamon and spice.
Back home, the mildewed strings of a guitar await my fingertips
to play once more ,upon the worn out chords of my heart
What willI play , What will I sing , a song that isn't ours ?
Fermented wine I pour into an empty glass
Yearning to taste the grape for what it was
before all it was turned bitter, acidic and sour.
Alone , I wonder where you might be
So far or not so distant ,listening to the mood in my voice
on once upon a record player, Wishing on a star ?
Categories:
odours, absence, memory,
Form:
Free verse
crumbling
leaves drift with wind
naked branches shiver
crisp scarlet, gold carpet is laid
onwards
misty
fog fills the air
masking grey gloomy skies
brisk breeze blows pinecones into
puddles
odours
of faint wood smoke
like an earthly perfume
infuse dawn's dewdrops on iced fields
ahead
hungry
blackbirds hover
searching for sweet berries
blanket of dark clouds cover sky
home time!
Categories:
odours, autumn, feelings, seasons,
Form:
Cinquain
The daylight is dying
Twilight comes flying
Purple and crimson blaze in the sky;
The sun's in a rush
To part with a flush
And kiss the meadow good bye.
An hour for trysting
When you come unresisting
Precious and eager on hesitant feet;
Shadows disguise us
Rose scent to baptize us
Scenting our bed with odours so sweet.
We can't know the reason
Or the span of a season
But eternal the stars shine up above;
We never had sought it
We never had thought it
Were it not jeweled with the beauty of love.
But all is forgiven
By chance that has given
An hour for the transition of youth;
We never will know it
But our dream will now show it
Changing it all to astonishing truth.
The fireflies ignite you
My breath will delight you
Nothing will vex the passing of hours;
Come, I await you
Night is too late for you
Come while the dewdrops are kissing the flowers.
The wind of the night is
Fragrant with lilies
Touched by a moonbeam, kissed by the dew;
The garden lies breathless
Where love awaits deathless
Under the starlight, I'm waiting for you.
Categories:
odours, love,
Form:
Rhyme
A curious cocktail of odours greets us
as we move in from playground
to corridor, to cloakroom, to classroom.
Beeswax fragrance: freshly buffed parquet.
Brasso smell: base metal turned to gold.
Jeyes Fluid: vapour killing vile germs.
Such alchemy starts our day with clean slate.
Playground cacophony left behind.
Now each sound has discipline, has purpose.
First bell: registration shall begin.
Next bell: proceed to assembly hall.
Lasses stand on round marks; lads on square marks.
Regular rows, parallel precision.
Stand to attention. Uniform inspection.
At ease. Handshakes and smiles. Peace be with you.
Silence pervades as we ponder our sins.
With ramrod fingers Miss thumps on the keys.
Staccato. Left. Right.
'Ride on Ride on in Majesty'.
A short sermon on compassion is served.
Then, school notices: soccer successes
and the listing of scallywags destined
for public thrashing at high noon next day.
Third bell: learning shall begin.
RI lesson. St Paul's Journey yet again.
In silence we colour in his route map.
With crayons on auto-pilot we day dream.
Our apostle arrives in Rome by morning break.
Categories:
odours, bible, education, faith, religion,
Form:
Free verse
Tough and hardy, this bushy shrub;
Roadside decor in blazing sun,
Flowers pretty enough no doubt
In sure rigour bear heatwave run.
Blazing colours in crystal tints:
Orange and red, purple and pink;
Range of flavours, violet-white hints;
Touch unafraid such tensile links.
Flowery bursts in hot weather,
Sparkle and shine, blooming clusters;
Tough with dry thirst in warm splendour,
Outlook feels fine in sheer wonder.
Hot evergreen with thorny hedge,
Sparkling colours that look so good;
Nature now seen on dusty edge,
Arid odours as harsh drought broods.
Unnoticed show that bears hot heat,
Blooming in hues that gathers lots;
Bear fast or slow as time retreats,
Flowers that cue in sun drenched plots.
Bourgainvillea vines in the sun
Tell a story of survival;
See joy appear in sparkling run,
Flowers breezy in recital.
Leon Enriquez
14 Apr 2014
Singapore
Categories:
odours, beautiful,
Form:
Quatrain
I recall the river Wharfe, black crows caw
Swaying meadows dance to opulent breeze,
To wander within summer’s clothes she wore
And merging clouds the canopy to tease
When rain on nature’s cloak does gently please.
I recall fields of jade in sun lit dew
The summit of the Beacon’s striking view,
To taste the odours of woodland rambles
Witness the swallows beneath skies of blue
While wood mice wait of fruit laden brambles.
Entered Dizain Poetry Contest
Sponsor Sotto Poet
Theme Summer
written 22/10/2022
Categories:
odours, nature, remember,
Form:
Dizain
IF I COULD TURN BACK THE HANDS OF TIME....
If I could turn back the hands of time,
To sight of green grass and colourful flowers nod together,
In warm, quiet and friendly whisper in the midday breeze,
The language I could clearly treasure and understand,
Under the verdant branches in the veldt where I used to play.
If I could turn back the hands of time,
To melancholy songs of the cuckoo birds,
To the bees murmuring, small birds chanting merrily,
To the sounds of water in raging rivers and streams,
And the heavy pattering rain on the zinc roof.
If I could turn back the hands of time,
To smells of steaks and chips in the passageways,
Delightful odours of plants so sweet and strong,
To home brewed beers in the over-brimming glasses,
And the golden apple green as the fridge swings open.
If I could turn back the hands of time,
And feel warm heater air caressing me in winter,
The soft touch of aircon in the sweltering atmosphere,
Sweet taste of coffee and cold drinks to relieve fatigue as the sun breaks,
That made me dream of the events before tomorrow!
I used to stretch my hands, dressed myself and went where I wanted,
But now , with my joints all aching, senses fading and eyes gradually growing dim,
I stretch out my hands and somebody dresses me up,
And leads me to where I do not want to go,
Yes, I cannot turn back the hands of time now!
Categories:
odours, life, sad, me, green,
Form:
Free verse
Off to the Church this Cowboy went
For Sunday to him was Heaven sent
But as he took to his pew
Suddenly into their view
Beelzebub, he, now present
Imagine the screaming now starting
To the exits they're simply departing
But this Cowboy remains
Against Beelzebub's deign
Oh the odours of the leaving farting
To the Cowboy, Beelzebub says
In a broken down language display
Are you frightened of me
Am I stronger than thee
Not really, who do you think you portray
For Satan I am, but you never have fears
No matter what I say, leaves you no tears
So simply, what can it be
That your not scared of thee
I've been married to your sister for years
.
Categories:
odours, heaven, humor, religion, boy,
Form:
Limerick
Villanelle: O! What a wonderful world this sordid life could be
O! What a wonderful world this sordid life could verily be
If only humans were not subject to envy nor jealousy
Worse than that pride of place makes man a chimpanzee
Our primate brother carries on his butt his Wounded Knee
We by contrast drape our tender unders in frills of Paris
O! What a wonderful world this sordid life could verily be
The garbage man carts away our rotten odours with glee
While we look on in disgust the irrepressible onset of palsy
Worse than that pride of place makes man a chimpanzee
Brothers mount thrones on humped backs in every dynasty
And slice the throats of those they love by gouging gentry
O! What a wonderful world this sordid life could verily be
The primate flees from human greed into his community
While humans stoke fires to roast their brothers up the tree
Worse than that pride of place makes man a chimpanzee
Birthplace pride makes man a hunted primate un-free
And envy turns the key in livid eyes to seething jealousy
O! What a wonderful world this sordid life could verily be
Worse than that pride of place makes man a chimpanzee
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Categories:
odours, jealousy,
Form:
Villanelle
Mother Nature...Oh! Blue water,
Oh! Soft Globe...
I’m your slave; I’m your probe,
I’m for you... and for what you hold,
I’m a nature addict, this what I was told,
I like your fresh air...I like your breeze,
I like your flowery plants,
I like your shading trees,
I like all your little creatures....
Squirrels, wild rabbits, birds and bees,
I like the odours of your virgin prairies and farms,
I like the magical beauty of your countryside that charms,
Hunters, adventurers and lovers more...
Vagabonds and even fugitives who come for,
Seeking shelters to escape and hide,
Horses-lovers and jockeys who ride,
I like your singing rivers that show and lean,
I like your floating swans going in twin [s],
I like the tiny alleyways that lead and mean,
Paths, short cuts, mews...all in green,
I like your braying donkeys and the barking dog,
I like the whistling winds and your splashy bog,
I like your orphan turtles and the leaping frog,
I like your frosty mornings and your ghostly fog,
I like your stylish gardens...I like your vogue,
I like everything in you, mother-nature,
But I don't deserve you...
Since I’m destroying you,
And myself [...] I’m a rogue!!
Categories:
odours, beauty, environment, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Dear Lord this year to save time being lost
remind me- Turkey, Christmas Eve- defrost.
And when it's in the oven, leave no doubt
that I forgot to take the giblets out.
Five loaves, two fishes you fed five thousand,
may I feed six with far less food to hand
since each year bags of food we buy a few
the wheelie bin eats better than we do.
You love little children, what joy they bring,
for me, as tranquilizer, Sherry's king.
I pray , Lord, as I open my gift box
I look pleased with my snowman themed bed socks.
Please let me use only the choicest words
when queueing for pork pies at dawn, at 'Birds' *.
We thank you for the gift of Brussels sprouts
and hinged windows to let the odours out.
Peace keeper may I be as it gets late
and nobody offers to wash the plates.
Above all, Lord, may I remember who
this season is about, and it is you.
* Birds is our local bakery
Categories:
odours, christmas,
Form:
Rhyme
Please precious play,
Reap radiant rays;
Etch each embrace,
Charm cheery chase;
Impact inking,
Odd ordering;
Urge unfurls us,
See sights sensuous;
Beauty boasts blooms,
Odd odours oomph;
Urge undermines,
Nudge number nine;
Tales trouble tells,
Yonder yields yell.
Leon Enriquez
23 October 2014
Singapore
(Note: This is an Acrostic Sonnet with Alliteration.
"Nudge number nine" -- The number 9 represents
Completion in Numerology; Thus to nudge number 9
is to prevent completion of a cycle, and thus obstruct
the start of a new cycle.)
Categories:
odours, blessing,
Form:
Alliteration
sweet odours of spring
filled in the air still chilly
a wonder of life
Categories:
odours, life
Form:
Haiku