The Perfume Bottle
The perfume bottle, sparkling clear and bright,
Gifted to me by my bride, with delight,
Preciously preserved across sands of time,
As a memory of our love still shines;
Inside the bottle lies a soft and sweet
Scent of shared love, a wholesome shining treat
Of vernal flowers, blooming fresh and new,
Handpicked for their fragrance and lively hues;
With a gentle touch, a thin spray seeps out
To outlast its whiff through the day, no doubt,
A tiny drop on the skin is not vain,
It rushes love memories in its train;
It streams tenderness of first loving days,
Revives in my mind sweetness of old ways,
Rouses a warm feel of fond affection,
A cozy feeling, verging on passion;
More than a perfume bottle, it`s love sign
That across flight of time does not decline,
Memory of first love held in the hand
That like rock, many a strain does withstand.
Autumn Sway
golden leaves in flight
chilly breeze whirls through the trees
sunshine fades away
rancid scent hangs in the air
autumn firmly holds its sway.
Winds of honest scented
insistence glided my wings
through life’s many dramas.
Raw breezes fragrantly
touched my unsure skin
with soothing perfumes
promising my faith was
not errantly consumed.
I thought, go until I had it,
not go until the path quit
without signs I had tried.
I imagined a target future
sat for my eventual,
precisely aimed, bullseye.
That’s a notion I did covet,
even leaned it towards perfect.
If bottled, wind's cologne could
release sachets of peace that
waft serene blends upon and
through times of disquietude.
A perfume bottle I'll never forget
Stays in my heart, where its forever etched
It was my eldest sister's first romance
That Christmas to me was heaven enhanced.
We watched as each present became unwrapped
All us sisters hearts were truly enrapt
Each item had a heavenly perfume
The fragrance simply made our young hearts boom.
I found it the best thing I'd ever seen
Lovely as an enchanting movie scene
First thing I bought with my first pay packet
Beauteous perfume, just had to have it.
Our mom let us spend our first wage, so sweet
After that we had to pay for our keep
I'll never forget that scent, didn't cost much
Was start of a love with a magic touch.
On my dresser rests a bottle of glass
its angle still holding the light like water.
The stopper breathe when raised
and the air loads with her absence.
A breath of jasmine, faint but faithful,
returns me to the nights I waited
for the sound of her heels on the stair
her perfume arriving before her voice.
Now the bottle is nearly empty
yet one drop carries whole worlds:
laughter folded into nightfall rooms,
a touch that lingers longer than flesh.
Brittle as yesterday, constant as devotion
it reveals how a soul can remain
in the echo of fragrance alone
resting quietly where light cannot fade...
Tea bags and wet dog, crossword ink on fingertips.
Chocolate biscuit wrappers, garden pond algae.
Hairspray that held those curly grey locks in place. Regal.
Scents mixed and shaken,
ground and stirred – a dusting of her
that wafts through air like a time
machine, shuttling me back to a
bowling alley, a country show digging
up worms. A couch that belched
stories when sat on. Vegetable broth.
I’d bottle it. I’d use it sparingly.
Red carpet occasions only.
Or for our backyard patio boardgames.
Water rushing, steam rising, accompanied by the scent of citrus.
Breathing in the scent of citrus suds to ground myself.
Trying to keep myself sane.
Water racing down my face, washing away the stress and pain of the day.
No longer drowning the day out with water, back to reality.
Take me out of my head with your head.
Now forgive me, but bold is my baseline.
Make no mistake I must be comfortable,
drawn in by the depth of conversation.
Now forgive me, but bold is my baseline.
I want you to taste my entire body.
Drawn in by the depth of conversation,
please take me even deeper inside.
I want you to taste my entire body,
never stopping to come up for air.
Please take me even deeper inside,
just don’t forget the way back out.
Never stopping to come up for air,
how long can you handle the pressure?
Just don’t forget the way back out,
danger smells better than protection.
How long can you handle the pressure?
Make no mistake I must be comfortable.
Danger smells better than protection,
take me out of my head with your head.
delicate as a whisper in the night
AP: 1st place 2025
"The Scent of Eden"
Up the road I walked
as if in some golden hazy dream
and along the road an honour guard
to the left of me, of red-ripe apple trees
I walked bare feet
into that lush abundance
of waving dark forest green
the scent of mystery, fresh petrichor
wet leaves underneath my soul
moistly called me in, to believe
some kind of beckoning
to unprocessed novel new beginnings
I plucked the largest I could find, as always
stretching too far above me
then, in my hands
I raised it to my rosy lips
before I took it fully in, my over-soul
breathed its knowledge o’er me like a twin
wisdom, its gilded giddy perfume
the scent of Eden,
sings
Candide Diderot. ‘25
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(({{{@}}})) % Roses say a lot,
Both in scent and how they look,
..””””.. Admire all of her
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SPICE
seasons
simmering
saffron flowers steam
crimson threads libido
scents so sweet, bon appétit
“Rosemary perfumes August’s breeze”
aromatic pause
then time to push the lever
~ french pressed perfection
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Meadow of clustered flowers
fragrant bouquets of petals
pinks purples yellows whites
~ a delightful extravaganza
Spreading their joy like tentacles
they entice butterflies and bees
while the sun keeps busy
caressing this wild ageless garden
AP: Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
in the night air
your perfume lingering ~
the thought of you sweet
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
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