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    Parker Owens
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  • 36 Words
  • 1,250 Views
  • 16 Comments
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Spice Rack - 14. Recollection

An aftertaste, maybe. If you find a problem, please blame me for it. I'm the one responsible.

Green grass,

golden sunlight,

and the salt scent of work

linger about you at purpled

sunset;

years hence

will these be my fragrance of love,

the sweet, rising incense

from altars of

ardor.

I'd like to thank AC Benus and Asamvav111 for their help and encouragement. Please leave a comment, if you feel the urge. I appreciate all of them.
Copyright © 2017 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 14
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

On 7/14/2017 at 0:45 AM, Headstall said:

Ah, the unique scent of your man... calming, and invigorating both. The things it does to your senses... your state of mind. It is what you crave when it's not there, and what you need to flavor your air... I love that you speak of the rising incense... as you get closer to the altar... so beautifully expressed :heart: 

 

Scent unquestionably alters mind and memory, making imprints and pathways in  the brain. Just one hint of that attar and one's spirit lights up. I am glad you liked this; you seem to get my meaning exactly. 

  • Like 1
On 7/15/2017 at 3:19 AM, Aviana said:

It was wonderful parker...I got the image of u n ur beloved sitting in a garden watching sunset, and the breeze blowing where u can smell the sun, the grass n ur man...

It was a lovely poem...very beautiful!!

 You set the scene so vividly and perfectly. The end of a perfect day of getting projects and work accomplished; soon to be followed by an evening in other pursuits. Thanks so much for reading this poem and for your comments.

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