the fragrance writer

Who will remember
anything I’ve done? 
What is the purpose
life’s “good” work?
Why not play the fool? 
When can I escape
their fate?
How can my heart not grieve
when ever to gain
is to lose?

I gather lilies
from your flower bed
I’ll lose myself
adoring their designs
Let’s take some time
and slow things down.
Will they be looking for us?
We’re browsing
in the gardens now.
Down in the valleys,
searching blossom vines.
If I awake, I’ll wonder
where I am
On pillows, spiced,
is where I lay my head.

The bottles, corked, hide laughter and a song
So open up to Epicurious!
Rewards of working harder than them all
Chuckles of a Madman
Hid away in castles growing strong
With lovers who make loving curious
Giggles of a Madman
Knowing that his pleasures soon are gone.

I look, I see
what’s pleasing to the eyes
Red cinnamon, in words
I hear you speak
With bold intentions
in your shy design.

And now that we’re together
I will stare, free of care,

In eyes – imprisoning
this heart of mine
A voice of wine
that beckons ’til I’m weak
And there’s no filling of
your lows and highs.

My heart has rhythms
undefined by rhyme
In laughs and smiles
that I’ll hide within

She comes today
she replaces yesterday

As gentle as the
morning’s sun on skin
Old feelings, unfelt,
Since too long a time