the fragrance writer

Has every flowerd field been seen before?
Have all exotic incenses been burned?
Can you explore in twenty twenty-four?
I’d like to think adventures are still earned.
There’s still another view outside this door.

From this hard week, I need a soft release!
To lay and write of sarsaparilla notes.
No difference to me: None read poetry!
So I will verbalize of root-beer floats
That, from a rough day, I’ll have something sweet.

It’s time to write a bit of poetry.
I weighed myself, I lost about five pounds.
I’m angry but I wouldn’t speak of this…
I’m really boosting up my workout rounds.
And now to read from Shakespeare’s commentary.

All day longi I mulled over my problems,
Except the moment that I smelled a rose.
I guess I’d rather write about perfume.
People forget to stop and tip their nose
But, self destructive minds, we’ve all got em.

My soul’s reached every season in a day,
As if its only anchor’s gone astray.
It’s been a long time since I’ve cried at all.
Now “Walking on the Waters,” they would say.
The Holidays just made me feel this way?