...is a spray  
of sweet, nagging fragrance
borne by a rush of air
it touches nostrils as it travels,
to stimulate, and to scintillate
the flashing of memories
especially, when distance is great
and truly separates...

it could be the bouquet of a single rose,
or a handful of jasmine....or,
the welcome smell of cinnamon,
sage, nutmeg and other spices that
bring out the fragrances of good cooking,
or those of sweat and a fruity cologne
blending while working
from caring....from loving.
::::::::::::
it's a brush of summer wind
that captures, even a bit of a sniff
of any, or all of those scents.
:::::::::::::
a smell so pleasant
that dwells in the senses
and brings calm to one's soul.

the nose...the other senses know,
the heart and the mind know
the summation
of all these fragrances.
:::::::::::::::
no perfume could ever equal
the scent(s) of a woman.
:::::::::::::::


Sally

Copyright January 30, 2018---10:40 PM
rrab

I am free
Mentally
When I am too busy
Physically

But I am too busy
Mentally
When I am free
Physically

So be a bee
To be
A happy bee

Meet me in my dreams tonight
Where love elopes and hopes fly high.
Where songs of truth are sang to thee
This night alone to set us free.

Meet me in my dreams tonight
Where fate abounds in your design.
We’ll tell a tale of ecstasy
To fill this void from you to me.

Within my dreams, in you - I’ll wait
To find me in this abstract state.
Together time is out of reach
This surreal moment belongs to each.

Within my dreams, for you - I’ll find
That hidden escape within our mind.
We’ll banish all worry and cut all strings
That keep us from joining and fleeing on wings.

Within my dreams, for you - I’ll be
Forever yours eternally.
The one real place we can feel alive
Where all our fantasies live and thrive.

Meet me in my dreams tonight
Within this realm as we collide
Hold on tight ‘fore dawn of light
Both far away and out of sight.

Meet me in my dreams tonight
This moment I’ll treasure of timeless flight.
Where thoughts unfurl and feelings entwine;
Where I am yours and you are mine.

In this
world of progress
I miss
the personal simpleness
of hand-written letters.
The physical connection
of unfolding and holding
the very paper
another mulled over
and touched.
I miss
the discret indentation
left by a weighted pen
as if to add subconscious emphasis
to inked words in a message
of which
I was worth the efford.
And some held
the sender's scent
by design
or accident.
Honest words
written and meant
from one to me.
An intimate thing,
a relic of time
folded and stored,
hidden away safely
those
cherrished memories.
Sealed
With
A
Loving
Kiss