Fragrance

As my fingers press into the recess of an old pot pourri jar, the gentle scents of its content tickle my senses, and my mind takes a journey, on the gossamer tendrils of its fragrance, through The Memories Of A Life Time...

Monday, December 26, 2005

Drink To Him...

Drink at his mouth,
Forgetting the full red cups and reeling bowls.

Drink at his eyes,
Forgetting the purple scent of the vine.

Drink at his cheeks,
Forgetting the life of roses poured in crystal.

Drink at his heart,
Forgetting everything.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home