Illusions of Me.You hear me call with
echoes through the hills;
My voice, a stag, that
leaps o’er valleys deep
If only I were such
an animal,
Close to your residences
I could roam
We’d nibble on your
fruit trees ’til we’re full;
Meander through the
gardens of your home.
But, still afar,
we’re lying, counting sheep
With heavy eyes and
Unsatisfied wills.
the fragrance writer 