there is something in the air.
the smell of musk and cedar wood.
everywhere where the wind carries me,
it is there.
this distinctive scent.
the scent of security and
memories of beautiful days.
it is your scent
that I've learned to love

Poetry sings in the close distance
Walks long stride of rainfall creeks
And rivers into seas

Dances clouds
In intermittent rainbows
Spectrum spiraling down
Dewdrops in autumn
All yellow orange
Disturbed by leaves

Insurgent
It reminds of passion
Subtle
By degrees
Fashioning memory
Like insulin
Needling youth too high
Or too low
On the sweet

On the sweet

It lingers
Words
Tongue to lips
Fragrance
On air too hot and too still
Breathing longing
Breeze denying

Until of love it has its fill

© 2018 Steve Kelly aka kellyocs

The Sun is mellow

Vibrant  orange marigolds

Pleasant winter days

Seasonal fragrance
Can't be bottled; neither branded
Petrichor

What can I do?
When I am so smitten for thee-
That the icicles of my past, melt in just
a stare of thine starry eyes.

There is a chasm between Me
and Thouest, which lies a fire so warm,
And bright, it does at once light
the darkest of nights and desires.

What I would give-
to feel thine enamoured heat...
Caressing the knots and scars across my body.
Your kiss is comparable to the smokiest oud and fresh tobacco-
lighting our pyres.

Alas, it is impossible to rhyme in your presence!
I stutter at the fluttering of your individual hairs
standing up to greet
the deity you love most deep.

This vessel is the human alchemy for thee:
The everlasting sycamore cooling beside the sea.